Pause, rewind, replay...please

I wont let everything in me go waste, I am just waiting

I feel there is a pause, I am living a pause..life will get on accelerated mode again

One in a million

In my 3 months scan(which is the major milestone scan) I had a chance of 1 in some 1515 to have a child with downs..as they say it

I had no idea what downs meant..in my vague mind I thought it has to do with low placenta and I dint pay much attention to it

In my next 20 weeks anomaly scan, which I took as routine, the lady doctor who was scanning looked concerned..it took her an hour to evaluate and calculate many things and finally she called me in and told me..there are 4 soft markers which have raised your chance of having a child with down syndrome to 1 in 10 ..she looked vicious to me

I stared at her...cos by then I read up on down syndrome and even my then gynae had told me that I needed to get a few tests done(cos of my age) to rule that out..she had warned me about what a life for a child with DS could be so that I could take a smarter decision (and whats that? to end a life which could have brought me so much joy?)

To have conceived was a miracle to me..in all the conditions that this happened so not for a second could I ever think of thinking twice about having this child

I dint know what to tell her..she sensed that and since she and my gynae belonged to the same hospital, she said you should go and talk to her immediately and even spoke to my gynae and asked her to take my appointment immediately inspite of the end of the day

I rushed to the gynae, not knowing what she would tell me..but knowing surely that whatever happens, this child is coming in this world

I want to write about my times
From the time i got to Know my son has down syndrome
Till today

I want to write each and every feeling of mine
Things I could not share with anyone..and sometimes even not with myself
I have to ..have to write it here...

Else there shall be no witness to my life
To my moments of complete randomness

So I shall write..one at a time
Each day..each moment...

My baby has down syndrome

Yes he has and I love him for all that he is and more..
Here is my FB post which I put up last month

October is the month of down syndrome awareness and in this month(after much apprehensions) I choose to make the small world in FB aware of the fact that my baby has down syndrome and it means nothing compared to the possibilities and potentials he has
I will be posting more DS myths in days to come but today I want to just share this small story someone posted in another group:
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Most women become mothers by accident, some by choice, a few by social pressures, and a couple by habit. This year, nearly 100,000 women will become mothers of special needs children. Did you ever wonder how mothers of special needs children are chosen ? Somehow, I visualize God hovering over Earth selecting his instruments for propagation with great care and deliberation. As he observes, he instructs his angels to make notes in a giant ledger.
„Armstrong, Beth; son; patron saint, Matthew.“
„Forrester, Marjorie; daughter; patron saint, Cecelia.“
„Rudledge, Carrie; twins; patron saint… give her Gerard. He’s used to profanity.“
Finally, he passes a name to an angel and smiles, „Give her a special needs child.“
The angel is curious. „Why this one, God ? She’s so happy.“
„Exactly,“ smiles God.
„Could I give a special needs child a mother who does not know laughter ? That would be cruel.“
„But has she patience ?“ asks the angel.
„I don’t want her to have too much patience or she will drown in a sea of self-pity and despair. Once the shock and resentment wears off, she’ll handle it. I watched her today. She has that feeling of self and independence. She’ll have to teach the child to live in her world and that’s not going to be easy.“
„But, Lord, I don’t think she even believes in you.“
God smiles. „No matter. I can fix that. This one is perfect. She has just enough selfishness.“
The angel gasps, „Selfishness ? Is that a virtue ?“
God nods. „If she can’t seperate herself from the child occasionally, she’ll never survive. Yes, there is a woman I will bless with a child less then perfect. She doesn’t realize it yet, but she is to be envied. She will never take for granted a ‚spoken word.‘ She will never consider a ‚step‘ ordinary. When her child says ‚Momma‘ for the first time, she will be present at a miracle and know it ! When she describes a tree or a sunset to her blind child, she will see it as few people ever see my creations.
„I will permit her to see clearly the things I see — ignorance, cruelty, prejudice — and allow her to rise above them. She will never be alone. I will be at her side every minute of every day of her life because she is doing my work as surely as she is here by my side.“
„And what about her patron saint ?“ asks the angel, his pen poised in midair.
God smiles. “ A mirror will suffice.“
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DS myth : Down syndrome is genetic so there's nothing you can do to treat it. Just take her home and love him.
DS reality : Ds is genetic. There is no cure, but the underlying mechanisms are biochemical and thus can be treated through diet, supplementation and targeted nutritional intervention. Even cognitive delays are now being treated.Unfortunately, most doctors receive less than 24 hours of nutritional instruction in med school. By aggressively treating the symptoms of Ds (vitamin deficiencies, biochemical imbalances, oxidative stress, hypothyroidism, apnea, growth hormone deficiency, malabsorption, etc.) we can improve, correct and prevent many of the problems associated with Ds. If your doctor is telling you otherwise, their expectations for your child are too low.
(Note: I would not take any comment saying "I am sorry" as having him in my life is nothing to be sorry for and I pity those who might feel like that, cos a child for me is not an investment)
"When your heart cracks open, it allows the light to shine in."
My Aaru is my means to glory..to beauty..to wonder..to miracle and to the very thing that makes me

Tu jo mila..to ho gaya main kabil..tu jo mila..to ho gaya sab haasil

Today my sweetu , my son Aaru aka Araadhya Srijan, went out for my sisrer's musical show without me, as I was feeling really tired.

This was his first time without me outside house, for such a long time
I kept calling now and then to know his status and my mom reported that though he looked jolly while going out but the moment he realised that I am not around, he cried bitterly. But they could get him around after car trip and moving around. My mom's presence is reassuring for him and me as well.

But the fact that for a while he missed me like mad, made me fee strangely satisfied.

I am a working mother and he gets to spend only 30% of his waking moments with me, in a week. Rest 70% is with my mother yet he craves for me!!???

This feeling is so enriching, so rewarding, so beautiful that I can forget all my malice, all my anger with the world in just that one moment of him trying to find me in every face and crying cos he can not see me

His feeling is so re-assuring to me in many ways..it tells me that apart from what I appear to the world, I am beautiful..I am spotless..I am perfect
Apart from how I torn and scattered I feel, his feeling for me assures me that all thats broken in me will be mended just cos he thinks I can mend it all for him

My love for him, which results in his immense love and trust in me...decides it all

He tells me that I am invincible

There is something so pure about a child loving you, so attractive, so heart wrenching that the toughest can melt
I see Aaru flashing his smile all around ..to the auto wala, the sweeper, each of them smiling back to him..the ones whom we see usually grumpy with us

And to have that child's love so centered around you..is a privilege, is a gift

Tu jo mila..to ho gaya main kabil..tu jo mila..to ho gaya sab haasil

Cos someone like me can not be part of mundane

I have decided on one thing..I will say all the things to myself that I wished someone else would say to me..someday..sometime

How does it matter that the words you want to hear are said by you and noone else

So somedays I tell myself..you are strong as hell, noone can touch the fire in you..I am like Dagny Taggart from Atlas Shrugged(someone had actually once said that to me) or Maya Angelou's phenomenal woman

Or some days I revel in my own mystery, and fall in love with my own slightly kohled eyes..
I feel like embodiment of all the secrets a woman is made of..like Binodini of Choker Bali, like Anna of Anna Karenina, like Tess of Tess of D'urbervilles

And on another day when I feel defeated, I feel a nothing, I feel like a wind in barren land..I still presume there is some beauty in that, must be..cos someone like me can not be part of mundane

Yes its just that one last thing about me which keeps me going, that I feel like that about myself..always..forever

Epiphany

There are bits and pieces of us, scattered around in those places and people where our are hearts have found something new, exciting, enriching

when we revisit those places, we revisit ourselves, , we revert a little to the old, feel a little more than usual that we felt off-late

As we try assimilating all that we were..that assimilation gives a little high..to know ourselves as we used to be..to realize there is a faint chance of us getting back to that

But all we do is go in circles around a mass of colossal sadness, making every memory of ourselves ..solidifying that what has been will never again will be

Yet, I hear an old song..and sometimes in midst of all the chaos..I find myself anewed

With some people even the best resort in the heart of Paris does not seem to mean a thing. The beauty of outside seems to taunt and torment the dullness inside. Your heart just does not get engrossed in anything.

And with some the dingiest bar is a place to glorify..the stupidiest joke is worth laughing a 1000 times, everything around that person makes a hell of a memory to go back and play it again and again...for making your life worth something

Unsung deires

There are desires meshed in the pores of her being
And sometimes they come on the surface
Making her glow, they perspire out of her

It's fragrance reaches the one it's meant to

The beauty of her desire was..
that it was flimsy
Like giggles of teenaged girls
Hidden and muffled

She waits, for something within her to be negated
She waits for something to be asserted

There are parts of her
Unknown and unheard

She wanted to explore something
Doesn't remember what
Something of the outside or within..?
Those memories come back when she sees
A stony

She wants to know what else can she be
Away and apart from what she has become

she waits the fire in her to blow out, or to burn her
she is forever waiting, for her calling

she wants to drown all of it, or be drowned in it
there is no midway, it cant be that for her
not her...

The intoxicating loneliess beckons

Everybody wants their share from the world.

Of stolen kisses, clandestine meetings, outrageous fights

Drama satisfies us in some soul gratifying way

Obsessions are what we need
Obsessions to get through the drill..to get past the ordinariness
But pity.. obsessions don't last a lifetime!!

Then as the drama and the passion for it subsides,finality of things dawns on us

You are avenged.,Of being born

Then the  intoxicating loneliess beckons
Lets leave love alone..to perish or to fend for itself

Sharing cos it does not leave me alone

It was Christmas time, a log time ago
Something looked very mysterious about the way clouds overdid the sun and candle lights would show up in houses during day time.
It made me dream and imagine things I cant put my words into

We had tenants who were christians and had invited us to a chirstmas party that year 25th december

But the cold grew into chilly waves and my father decided against going anywhere..
I was (and still am) the kind of person who has to see a plan take off and get done

It makes me edgy, lost and feel like a loser if I dont execute something I want to..or planned
So I fought and argued but at the age of 10, there is hardly much you can do or control anything

So that 25th December sat heavy on my heart for years, tormenting me in various forms

How we always want to live a part or a moment we could not,
How it torments us, that kandeel(paper lamps) I imagined and could not see comes in my dreams and even waking moments
Its something I was supposed to live but did not

That same moist sunless day tantalizes me with some promises, promises which it did not make but I held it reposnsible for

Those childhood/adolescence particles of hope and desire and magic never let go of us..has us in its grips for life..more so if they are unfulfilled

I want to lose it

Sometimes I just want to get lost, as in lose myself
Just be noone, have nothing to think of
Roam around, get in and out of shops and bars at whim

But I never seem to lose myself
even after 3 drinks, that acute awareness of my being and my situation does not leave me
It does not absolve me of myself

Oh how I hate that sense of being in control, that damned acute sense of being ME all the time!

The best of me

With you...
I feel like a I am part of something bigger than myself

As if I am part of something so divine, so pristine, so glamorous..
More glamorous than any song anyone has sung for a beloved

You.
Are more than life could have offered to me

Aaru..My Aarya...My Sirjan..Araadhya
You are my celebrity, my cocaine, my intoxication

You smell of my dreams..and me
You are......the best of me

Najar nahin lagegi tumhen, I am watching over baby!

Mayya and the insignificant

The best way to live is to create a world of your own in your mind.
The maaya

Listen to a song, read a book, watch a movie scene..
Embed in your world what stirs you out of any of these..and live it.vicariously, or think of it as your reality..

Whats the bloody big deal if reality sucks?

Dont let the other world(so called real) affect you. Always always disappear in that world, the world you heart.

They say that trivialities of life is not what you would remember on your deathbed. The agony over a small lie, the disillusionment over a frivolous revelation, the maddening rage over a small injustice. And all of those things which appeared big but supposedly does not inflict you in the long run.

Agreed.

But does that mean I am waiting for my death bed to happen to me, at every moment of my life? Does that mean I can brush off every piece of shit that I go thru, with nonchalance, just cos at my deathbed only the most significant and beautiful moment of my life would be of any consequence.

(I loved that last scene in American Beauty when Kevin Spacey gets shot by his wife, and he remembers all his moments right from childhood)

I dont know, maybe its true for some. But for me its just those moments.
I fight a lot to get a perfection in my life.
Of emotions, of order in life, of the principles that make me or define me.

My life goes for a standstill whenever any of that breaks..not shatters, but just breaks in a way that I cant find it in me to get back to the same level of innocence, that existed in me, prior to that small insignificant bit of disillusionment.

So f** the significant, cos life lies in the insignificant..in the mundane.

Losing love

Just the other day, I was on my way to work, and from no where a though struck me

This being in love, or someone being in love with you..this is such an extraordinary feeling

Just love, nothing else

No bondage of marriage, no promises of anything stable..but just the fact that someone is wrapped around you, can't think of anything beyond you, his/her days and nights are painted and tainted by you..is so mesmerizing

Its breath-takingly beautiful..exhilirating
Noone has any obligation to be truthful, to be faithful, to be available for another..no bondage of marriage, no bondage of blood, no court order

Its just you and your lover...
Someone just loves the way you are made, your eccentricities, your tantrums and your beauty
That makes you love yourself, all over again...to regale in your quirks to accentuate your "youness"..you see speak and behave the same..yet there is a shine to it all

This feeling is heady, it makes you giddy, you just want to retain it by all means..cos thats all you have by virtue of being you...everything else comes with a price

So when you feel the threat of losing that single soulful thing....you bend, you relent, you cling, you lose yourself, you fail to realize that the very thing which made you loveable and got you here... gets lost in the whole process of trying to retain a love which should have been lost long back

Thats why they say..love and all other disasters!!

This day, I, a woman, wants to vent

Its women's day. And I know all the charade that will be played on this day all over. On FB many status messages would reek of this.
And I know some of the men closely, whose respect for women stops at role play, yet they would wish and stand right in front of the world, without an ounce of idea as to what the word "respect" signifies.

I have 100s of questions and my own answers for this discrimination, yet I am baffled, hurt, angry and sometimes edging on obsession to set it all right. This post is all about my tussle, various reasons I keep giving myself, you might find it stupid, far fetched, childish sometimes..but then these are questions noone can ever justify to me.

When I was younger in my teens I always wondered why the world looks so different for different species? For a man, the whole world, all the streets and corners, looked like their home. They could pee anywhere, they could be heard with a guffaw at every nook and corner. Eating paan, smoking cigarette, leching at a girl, passing comments..shamelessly, unabashedly without restraint

And then there are girls, trying to be civil, like guests in a foreign place, showing their manners, covering themselves up, holding their thoughts, scared of men around every nook and corner before they reach their actual home..

It always baffled and irked me. As I was a direct victim of this, being in a state and city which is infamous for such eve teasing, I had to change my lanes just to avoid some goons who would make it a point to be there at certain times when I crossed that road, and scare the shit out of me.

I dont know if I was born of feminist, its in my genes or its my sun sign (Sagittarius) which cries for equality, cried against any form of injustice(even the subtlest forms which goes unnoticed by many).

We were brought with neutral values, being a family of 3 daughters and 1 son. Be it education, household work, outside work, I never knew what it was to be a girl, cos there was no demarcation in anyway.

Me and my elder sister were encouraged to study science much more than my younger sister and brother cos we had better acumen I guess. My father felt very proud of our little achievements in studies, professional field as he would have for a son. All his aspirations lay on us, and we fulfilled in whatever ways we could. Being a girl never stopped us from anything. We would be out till late for our dance performances, my mom would never let us do any household chores(even if the maid dint come she would do utensils and our clothes but would insist on us not doing a thing apart from our studies and dance classes).

To begin with, none of us, be it we sisters or brother, carry our father's surname. We all have different surnames which has some literal meaning. It doesn't define our father's caste, any race or any village/country name. Its just a pretty second name,defining just US. (Once in our dance class, my father was addressed as Mr.Nirajan, Nirajan being my surname not his :))

Its not like I was born in a family where this was a practice. Even though there was equality on the face of it, there were subtle things which always baffled me. Like, why was my mom all the time in the kitchen while my father enjoyed his time outside of it? My mom would sometimes ask me to get something for my father, like serve him breakfast, water etc. and I would ask her "Can he not do it himself?" To that she would say "Achcha nahin lagta ki papa karen" (Does not look nice if your father has to do it)
And I would fight with her asking " You are the one who cooks, yet you do not expect to be servd, but Papa does not do a thing in the house then how come it looks bad to ask him to do his stuff?"
To that Ma would act exasperated and say "You always argue and never understand"

And I wanted to scream that I dint understand nor would I ever want to!

All this while, the man(Father) would be enjoying his lunch outside oblivious to the fights we women were having in the kitchen

Men expect a woman to be in a certain way, before she can be deemed as woman, to give her due. If she chooses to be different, if she is self sufficient, and expects to be treated like one, she does not qualify to be treated with respect, care and concern.

There are too many ways to show a woman , that you are less!

To begin with, why should a woman change her surname when she marries? why is it that her identity has to mingle and be over powered by her husband's? If she escapes that, then its the child's turn, to adorn his name with his father's surname.
The child, whom she bears in her womb for 9 months, bears the pain of child birth, is the one to feed and nurture the kid, has to give her husband's name as child's surname?

And if a woman wants to just stand against it all, to just say that she wouldn't change her surname nor will the child bear father's surname(not even hers, though logically and physically child should) but a new surname which does not reek of caste/creed, why is she treated like an outcast?

And I can go ahead and say that all this is something which even my own family will not stand upto. I know my sisters are OK with having their husbands surname getting attached to their children, probably they even feel a sense of pride. I recall having fights with my younger sis whose in-law's place and our place are in the same city. She would make it a point to go there first whenever she visited the city and spend more time there, before coming to our place. My father never liked it, like usual fathers would. Probably he was not a typical father with us. (I recall many of my friends saying how I could talk to my father on many subjects I could..like love,life, and other such disasters , where for them father meant discipline and nothing else. They were so scared of their fathers!)

And I used to swear that I would never do such a thing. If we marry we make a pledge to each other to be friends. Noone has an upper hand, noone's family weighs above another. Then why should a girl entertain guy's side by staying there, where a guy who deigns to stay at his wife's place is considered a sissy? Why is it that a man doing something like cooking once in a while is seen as greatness and for a woman its her job?

Why should a woman shift to a man's house after marriage,why is it that the so called ancestral lineage belongs to a man and a woman is just someone who fulfills it by bearing his child and giving it his name? Somewhere or the other a woman does give up to some of these notions and bends her ways, and I had always sworn never to do that. As I thought there is no rightful thing which allows that. Just why, why and more whys have surrounded me all through my childhood, adolescence and youth

Why should a woman be even an ounce less than a man? Many would say that if a man helps you a bit in kitchen or lets you work then you are blessed and you have hit a jackpot! But I say NO, cos for me it has to be as equal as an equilibrium or its NOTHING!

While I was writing the above paragraph I am reminded of a line from one of my fav songs - लेना  देना  नहीं  दुनिया  से मुझे बस तुझसे काम है ,यारा तेरे मेरे खर्चे में दोनों का ही एक दाम है...जहेनसीब  तुझे  चाहूँ  बेतहाशा .... (I dont have to do anything with the world, Beloved in our expenditure both of us have the same value)

I think basis of all this difference stemmed from 2 facts, physical strength of men above women and the biological clock. Those are the only things which separates their capabilities. So based on that, society decided on this:
"Man you are the provider, and woman you are the nurturer. Women dont have the capacity to earn, so the one who can earn has the privilege of deciding who goes where, whose name who bears, whose identity goes for a180 degree shift.
Since men are capable of having a child even in their 50s and that equation for a woman changes drastically, so a man would always hunt and a woman would die to settler after mid 30s. It has nothing to do with charm, wit and personality of an individual. Any woman who dares to differ, hopes to be equal will be laughed at....PERIOD!"

Those who claim to be modern and forward thinking, even there the differences show up, in subtle ways but strong enough for me to sense it. And my closes family is also not a far cry from that.
Cos even with my family, I have heard from my own sisters at times that I am trying to be "unconventional".

I dont know what is it that made me into who I am, but every thing that I have felt about being a woman is my very own, not based on what "feminism" means nor "trying to" be something.  Maybe its my sun sing which cries for equality or maybe its something ingrained in me, nothing to do with where I was born or what I learnt from my surroundings.

My elder sis who was good in studies and did MBA, is happy to leave it all to settle down with 2 kids. She can happily flaunt a LOUI VUITTON bag which she has bought with her husband's money and I simply can't. My only pride is in MY VERY OWN capability to achieve something, buy something, be of use to my parent's with my money. Every atom of my being rejects this notion, so if my idea of happiness is based on some values I built for myself, and it does not match most, does it become wrong? I never stopped to think if it is!

These so called "culture" vultures are spread all around, like virus. You can see it in so many serials, big houses claiming of spick-and-span culture where women stand around men in the house, while men sit and chat and women are serving tea and snacks. Thats what they project as great indian culture and every household should be a replica of that. Even if wives are earning well, are political leaders, but their actual and real values lie in handling the household, thats thier DUTY. You might be an accomplished woman, but at the same time you are the one staying with inlaws and attending to their needs. If such things are shown as part of culture, then what is it suppoed to mean? That men have superiorty and they are the ones whose family needs to be taken care of, so if parents have only daughters, god knows who would take care of them.Such things only corrupt minds further. Injecting imbecile ideas, and making them as mark of something good, defining something "cultured". Any woman who rejects such ideas, becomes a vamp!

And thats why in the movies we see 50 year olds like Samlan and SHuah rukh wooing 20 somethings like Deepika and Priyanka.
 
Hmm..so maybe...this whole logic is probably based on the belief that men are meant for something bigger and better than what women can achieve? ! And women are just aids in letting men do that, while being by their side in various forms..wife, mother..yet never achieving the glory.
The world could have worked if only ACTUALLY women were a lesser lot. Then they could have done with relegating into background. But unfortunately there are brilliant women, in terms of intelligence, work culture, dedication and sense of responsibility. And if you are good, you cant do with what others dish out the role for you!

So why is it that you are a single woman of a certain age(crossing market defined marriageable age), earning well enough to own a house, buy things that you like, fending for yourself as well as sending money home for your parents, occasionally going for vaccations you dreamt of (on your own expense maybe not staying in 5 stars but happy with whatever you can manage with your own money)..still your biological clock makes your parents(and sometimes even you) fear loneliness lying ahead. The only respite is marriage in our society. And then comes along someone who might be earning 6 times that you do, and expectation is that you have to leave all that you built for yourself to move to a place and with someone you have hardly known. You have strived for many things and all that becomes negliglbe just cos you are a woman and things change only for you? And you like an idiot trade your financial indepdnence, your moments of glory, your space for the unknown. Just cos marriage is the ultimate goal of every woman's life! Thats how society eats away your real personality.

I  know this post is as fragmented as my scattered brain and thought process these days.

Yet in-spite of all the set backs, disillusions, lying low, losing passion..I believe there is still that something sparkling  deep inside me, my womanhood, my beauty...which will outshine the darkness..nothing will ever malign it, not even my own self or my fluctuating confidence.

Piece of perfection

I sometimes look at him and wonder from where he learnt to make these faces.
Where he got this attitude from?

Sometimes he would grimace at me and try to win my love, if someone else is doing something he does not like (mainly changing his clothes which is not a great affair for him, when his hands and feet get pulled).
Sometimes he would look through me if he does not really need me, is happy in his zone, or if I fawn too much and he is not in a mood to be fawned at.
Sometimes he would go on incessant babbling session, and make faces like grown ups would talk, with variation in tones.

And yet other times he would smile in glee, like the most beautiful rainbow the sky has ever seen, shining through my days and nights, cutting across everything sweet in me, that my heart can not take so much of love.

And for a moment I drop dead in my tracks and think HOLY SHIT! This is my doing. This ticked inside me for 9 months.
This adorable adorable piece of perfection.... is my son!

My boom shaka laka..being your mother is my greatest gift in life!