The Lipstick Lore

“In our factories we make lipsticks, in advertising…we sell hope.” - Peter Nivo Zarlenga (Author, The Orator)

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Dear Riddhie,

 

I guess the title for the post says it mostly, but before I get down to the actual narration of the incident, let me just begin by sharing with you one little experience.

There was a time (long ago, now) when a girl came up to me and told me to go check a mirror (literally) implying that I was perhaps not in league with her concept of socially acceptable looks (obviously stating that I was ugly enough to come stand next to her, let alone ask her out at all). This remark confused me in the beginning and I was actually conscious of what I reflected in the mirror for a considerable amount of time. This made me experiment (foolishly, if I may add) with the way I styled my hair or dressed up until I met a few others who liked me for who I was and then I realized physical appearance and the concept of beauty is nothing more than being in harmony with one’s own self. Your looks, physique and other attributes that may appear attractive to others visually, are nothing but a function of gene pool which you can not really control (at least not until now). However, what you can control is how you keep yourself groomed and speak so as to influence and change the way people think about you.

The crux is that though your looks may carry you places for a while, you will need substance to your personality to be successful in the long run. Having said that I really wish that you grow up to be sensible enough to know where to draw the line. (Of course I can always yell at you for standing in front of the mirror all day long and taking hours getting dressed).

And now for the actual story. It was the morning of July 07, 2012 and your mom probably left you alone for a few minutes in the room and stepped to the kitchen when you decided to explore her dressing table and pulled out a few things you had perhaps seen your mom use before – her lipsticks.

Going by the quote I started this letter off with, I still wonder if a 2 year old child actually cares about either color on the lips or hope (I reckon you probably do not even realize anything such as hope except anticipating a bottle of milk, when you need it). Maybe for you it was all about aping what the grown ups around do and just transcending it to your play. Now I guess, it somewhat makes our parenting skills questionable as why we would let you even copy such things and why before taking those lipsticks away from you, we sat down to capture your antics, but then I guess much as it is a learning curve for you being a child, it is very much the same learning experience for us being a parent. And then I must admit, that I tend to get a little overboard with my letting you ‘explore your own world theory’ at times. And then for the lipsticks, I guess I can’t really blame you. Your mother is one woman, I have known who can apply a lipstick while sitting on a bike, a Haryana roadways bus, blindfolded (YES, we even bet on it), while holding a baby, carrying a cup of coffee and even using her toes (OK, I made that last part up, but you do get the idea, right?). I guess some of her likes just passed onto you.

Anyway, to cut the long story short, here are a few pictures your mom clicked while you were busy putting on her lipstick.

 

I am sure that the days are not far when I will try to dissuade yourself from such games and infractions to help you retain your focus on things that matter. For now, I guess I will just sit back and enjoy you be my little monkey and swing along.

 

Love,

Dad.

Stepping Out

“You are born once, when you are out of your mother’s womb and again when you step out into the world…”

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Dear Riddhie,

 

I guess by the time you are ready to read this letter there would have been many more chapters added to your ‘stepping out’ experiences. However, with this short post let me narrate the first incident when you decided that you were ready to take on this world all by yourself.

It was during the earlier part of our stay at Downingtown, PA when you started showing signs of unrest when confined within the house for long. Through the course of the day, if we stepped out, even briefly, you wanted to be taken along. The building where we lived had patches of green outside and every time you were let out, you wanted to break through the glass doors in the corridor (which were thankfully locked) and rush out to the open space.  

It was the afternoon of May 2, 2012 and I was working from home. You were playing with your toys in the living room and your mom kept a watch over you as she prepared lunch standing in the kitchen. I was engrossed in some office routine which called for taking some print outs. I tiptoed across the hall so as not to get your attention (lest you wanted to come along) and quietly stepped out of the house to the office complex in the building for taking the prints. I must have taken just 5 minutes in the entire course of my action and just as I was returning back to the apartment, I found you standing out barefoot and waiting in the corridor.

At first I just thought that you were probably out with your mom and my first reaction was to look for her and ask her why she allowed you to step out barefoot. But as I turned around the corner and took you with me, I was astonished to see your mom still standing around the kitchen. When I told her that I had found you standing outside in the corridor she was just as zapped as I was. Apparently, both of us were still unaware of the fact that you had learnt how to use the handle of the door and gained enough strength to open it on your own and that there was enough direction sense acquired to venture out on your own.  

For once we were both thankful that we lived in a closed apartment complex and that there was no way you could have gone out to the parking lot on your own. But, that day we got our first reality check that you were actually beginning to come out of your little shell and were turning into a little explorer of sorts. No longer we could just assume that you would be confined behind closed doors and walls of the house. A testimony to this statement was another incident that occurred when we moved back to Jersey but I guess that calls for another separate post. For now I guess the picture below says it all. (I took this at a place called Tyler Arboretum in PA when you ventured into this big wooden egg shell).

 

Love,

Dad.

Swap The Parents…

“Every generation comes with its own frame of reference that is often interpreted as radically improper to the one before it. Defiance is an old tool that changes hands every generation and I am sure the script would be no different when you grow up…”

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Dear Riddhie,

Looking back at the incident which I am going to narrate now, I would be surprised if you do not grow up to be as brash and rebellious as I had once been. But let me tell you something, swimming against the current slows you down, it also tires you and most often you find yourself being dragged against your will. However, what is important, is to know where you want to be when you get out of the water. Anyway I shall save the lecture for another time and begin narrating the first chapter of your new found free-will with this letter of mine.

It was the Sunday of January 22, 2012 when we stepped out of the house to do our weekly grocery shopping and run a few errands. Your mother dressed you up prim and proper and ensured you were warm enough and well fed. Our destination wasn't really far from the house and before you knew it we arrived at the mall. Like always, you were generally excited with all the lights and glitz and people around and kept throwing smiles at unsuspecting people and we kept hearing random 'awwwwwws' every now and then.

Your mom wanted to check out some clothes and accessories outlet and seeing you all at ease, we decided to take our chances and stepped inside that relatively crowded place. The first 20 minutes went by fantastic - you kept smiling and spent time looking at the display of colors and fabric around and kept to yourself. Your mom in the meantime found a few things she liked and kept trying stuff on as I sat with you outside the try rooms.

However, as time passed, you began running out of patience. You started with low whining and within minutes were crying at the top of your voice. First you wanted to be released from the stroller and just as I did that, you wanted to be out of the store at top speed. The next couple of minutes we spent playing the game of getting you back into the store. I kept running after you to pick you up just as you would step out of the store and carry you back inside and you kept slithering out of my arms to rush outside just as eagerly.

This would have worked fine for some more time if your mom hadn't decided to wrap up her shopping and call me in to check the final selection and of course to pay for the things, which meant that you had to be confined back to your stroller and this certainly did not go too well with you. I am sure everyone in the store had a story to tell when they got a dose of your full vigor, all volume, speaker blasting shrill screams for letting you out of the stroller straps. With no other option to save us further embarrassment, we conceded to your behavior and let you free again. It was a matter of seconds that you made it clear that you did not like it inside and were all ready to run outside again. I am sure by the time we paid up and picked up our bags and stepped out everyone else inside was already praying for us to leave.

The moment we were out, you wanted to take a walk on your own. You shrugged my hand away, pushed your mother's fingers aside and started walking ahead of us, half crying, half irritated, stomping your feet, throwing your arms around and showing us your anger in all possible ways you could express.

Not only this sudden swing in your mood took us by surprise, we were equally shocked to see you wanting to follow your own instinct. However, we were in for a bigger surprise a little later in the day. On our way back I had to make a quick stop at a store to check some travel luggage and having experienced your displeasure on being put in the stroller we decided to just carry you in our arms. As we entered the store and put you down, you decided to run away again.

Your mom asked me to go ahead while she kept an eye over you but you had other ideas. Across the aisle where we stood there stood another couple checking out wares in a show window. You left your mom's hand and walked up to this other couple and started tugging at the trousers of the guy there. Needless to mention that these people were startled as well, but one look at you and they decided to play along a bit. The guy held your hand and you possibly gave her the best of your smiles and then to our sheer shock turned around and waved at us and started saying 'Ta-Ta, Ta-Ta' (your synonym for a bye).

This entire scene perhaps lasted about two minutes. You were unwilling to come back to us and eagerly wanted to go away with your chosen set of new parents. As your mom stepped by to pick you up (Yeah, though tempted, we still did not let you go) you started crying at the top of your voice again. To a bystander, we would have appeared as two 'bachchaa chors' attempting to steal someone else's child.

We did not waste any more time after that and packed you up in the car and drove home immediately. That night as you fell asleep by my side, I kept playing the events of the day gone by in my head and wondered at what would have led you to behave the way you did. I guess more than the shock it was also heart breaking that one of these days you would actually walk ahead, do a 'Ta-Ta-Ta' and move out and then your mom or I won't be able to run after you to pick you up and bring you back.

Well, until that happens...(sigh)...I would savor all I can and enjoy every moment and every new trick that you pick up including all such days where you decide to test our parenting skills.

Love,

Dad.

Driven To The Edge

“The trouble with children is that they are not returnable !!!” - Fyodor Dostoyevski

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Dear Riddhie,

Let me begin by asserting that I do not completely share the sentiments of the quote above but nonetheless over this last week you have been testing our patience so much that I can very well understand what Mr. Fyodor would have gone through when he made the above statement.

I have spoken in detail in my last few letters about how you have been picking up new ‘skills’ and want tear every corner down as soon as you wake up in the morning, but these last couple of days have been really exceptional. I believe you are growing up to be a little brat and for once we as your parents are really clueless about how to contain you and restore some bit of sanity in our lives. 

To top that, your being a little unwell over the week and becoming exceptionally moody is not really helping the cause very much. Despite several reminders, snatching things from your hands and cleaning up the floor multiple times a day, you still manage to lay your hands on some sort of a confection to put in your mouth. It’s been a tiresome week altogether running after you trying to hold onto things that you love throwing to the ground and watching over you so that you don’t trip over something or hurt yourself while trying to slide from the bed or the sofa or anywhere else that you can climb on.

It is surprising as suddenly you are no longer interested in your toys and either want to play with the dishwasher or fiddle with the keyboards of our laptops or simply want to chew on the remote of the TV. Well, I am sure you would agree now that none of this is really an acceptable code of conduct and not something that we could have allowed you to get away with. However, as I key this in, you continue to share your disagreement with us on the subject and have been raising the pitch, frequency and decibels of your protest by varying your tone of shrieking, howling and crying.

Well, young lady I am sure we shall have our confrontations on other subjects (your choice of clothes and my assessment of your friends or pushing you to achieve better goals for yourself perhaps) in years to come and maybe I shall not always be as conceding and submissive as I am to your mischief now but let me tell you this, that I shall never allow you to turn complete rogue and being a total rebellion will never really work on me no matter how big or small our bone of contention might be.

Maybe for now, I concede my total submission to you and accept that I let you get away with all your hoodlum behavior passing it as a cute trick you picked up but you shall learn in days to come, that my sensibilities will press me to take a less softer stand on your antics and you will gradually have to learn to be a little less reckless and more disciplined.

However, as that happens I don’t want you to forget that I love you just as much and that you shall always be my little angel. Let this letter be a reminder to you for all those times when you would want to tell me to mind my own business and would hate me for pushing the limits on you. Till then, let me continue smiling at the way you have been holding onto the sheets and slinging down the bed often landing down on the carpet with a ‘thud’.

Love,

Dad.

Mission Impossible: The Baby Protocol

Two days, two movie buffs, one multiplex and one restless baby – Mission Accomplished: The new baby protocol established…

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Dear Riddhie,

 

I am sure over a period of time you would have realized that I am a little more than an average cinema patron and movies do make up for a very large part of my entertainment. I guess I inherited this love for motion pictures from your grandfather and maybe some of it would rub on to you as well. I can’t tell for sure as of now, but let’s see if this is the case to be. For now, let me tell you about your initial few movies with the focus mainly on the experience yesterday and today.

 

Let me begin with some history here. Your mom and I had gone to watch Salman Khan starrer ‘Dabangg’ when she was carrying you (a little over 8 months then) and the next movie that we could watch in a theater after Dabangg was ‘Delhi Belly’ and that was when you were already over 7 months old. In fact we followed it back to back with Mr. Bachchan’s ‘Buddha hoga tera baap’, the same day. I wouldn’t say that this was the right cinema for you to open your movie watching innings but nonetheless that’s how you were initiated. 

 

The next few months were mostly spent travelling, adjusting to life in US and watching you grow from a gentle infant to a tornado toddler and it wasn’t until Christmas 2011 that we could plan another movie together. We zeroed on ‘Mission Impossible IV – The Ghost Protocol’ and made to the theater with you in our lap.

 

I guess the occasion was right and I perhaps could not have timed or planned it better. Since it was Christmas, most of the seats in the theater were empty which meant that you could have an entire row to yourself to walk, crawl and play around if you wanted to.

I must admit that you were intrigued by the large screen and the sound system and (to my surprise actually) sat on your mother’s lap looking intently at what was going on for first half hour. However, as the time progressed you wanted to get down and move about a bit and since we were the only ones sitting in an entire block of seats, we let you down. I got up and sat next to you on the flight of stairs in a corner and we perhaps spent the next 30 – 40 minutes like that.

 

We could keep you busy with your little snacks and milk at random but I guess it was almost time when your patience ran out. Just about the moment when desert storm kicked in on Tom Cruise (watch the movie and you will know) you got absolutely restless and threw off your cookies and milk bottle as far as you could and began crying. The slow sniffle transformed into loud screams and eventually a Dolby level bawl. Within seconds, you made it clear to us that it isn’t the ghost protocol but the baby’s code of conduct which matters.

Thus, began our own little mission impossible. We rocked you, I let you throw my mobile a few times, your mom kept bribing you with some candy and nuts and I took you for a little walk along the stairs as well. But all this could just about last until the final action sequence and eventually your mom did make the sacrifice and picked you up and walked out of the theater to help you settle in. I joined her a few minutes later and as I key this in, I still do not know how the film ended. (Maybe I shall watch it with you again some time) Maybe we were asking too much from you. You are still about 14 months and 3 weeks old and this is perhaps as reasonable a 14 month old can be. 

However, we did not let the matter rest here. Having seen a fair success with you on MI IV (well we could together almost watch 80 – 90 % of the total length of the movie) we decided to push our luck again. The movie this time was the 3D version of Farhan Akhtar’s Don II. As I thought, there were limited people in the audience and the theater again was largely empty and we could find ourselves an entire row empty again. But then as it turned out, you probably liked Tom Cruise better than our Shah Rukh Khan and you were at your restless best within first 15 minutes itself. You wanted to snatch the 3D glasses and wanted to move about just everywhere.

This time around, however your mom decided to battle it out. I guess her confidence was augmented by the fact that it was all Indian population inside the theater and she kind of presumed that the Indian ‘Chalta Hai’ attitude was globally applicable. She took you to the farthest secluded corner and let you move about, as you pleased. You did not let her keep her glasses on for more than a minute at any given time and I am guessing she kind of watched the fuzzed 2D version of a 3D rendition. By the time it was intermission, your mom was nearing her breakpoint. I stepped in when you became almost too violent for her to handle.

I guess I could grab your attention and settle you down for a little while but it wasn’t long before you wanted to be free again. Your mom tried bribing you with some fruit loops but then I guess little children can be greedy pigs once in a while. You stuffed a handful in your mouth and before we realized you were choking on a piece right in the theater. Your mom thumped you on the back and you were settled after puking all over me. While this entire thing lasted only a few seconds, I could smell the stink on my jacket even hours later. Funnily enough, you were all calm and ready to sleep just as about the movie was ending.

I am sure in years to come there would be instances when you would drag us to a movie that you would want to watch and then there perhaps would be a time when you would want to go and catch a movie and not want me or your mom to tag along. I generally would not want to dissuade you from cinema for everyone needs their share of imagination and a break from reality. I would however, want you to self-regulate what you watch for it does affect the way you think and dream.

So, maybe from the time that the moving silver screen starts making sense to you till the time that you are grown up enough to know what you should be watching, I promise to be your man to pick those movies for you. Hope we enjoy them together and carry on our little film club.

 

Love,

Dad.

The World Is My Playground

“A child and screams in the house is not what you should worry about, the scary thing is when you have both silence and the child under one roof for the next thing you are most likely to hear is a loud crash”

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Dear Riddhie,

 

In my last two posts, I have already talked about how in recent times you have been one restless child wanting to touch and hold everything that you can find within your reach. I shall not dwell upon how it keeps us on the our toes and the edge of our seats forever and would let these pictures do the talking.

 

The moment we turn our backs, you devise a new prank. Ranging from scaling high chairs, table tops to pulling out electric plugs from their sockets and throwing away our phones. 

 

The worst part of this all is that every time that we try and raise our voice, either to distract you or send over a warning signal, you tend to throw back a full blown smile in return and we get stumped on what course of action to take next.

I know with time, this phase too shall go away and soon you will be intelligent enough not to drink from the  bath tub or eat from the carpet and would learn that apples do not bounce off the floor like your big red rubber ball does and that spoons and coffee tables have other purposes in life than make music.

Though, I do enjoy these moments and keep looking for my chance to click you in action, my greater concern is ensuring that you do not sustain any injury when performing your ‘stunts’. I just hope that in years to come while you continue enjoying this world as your playground, you also see it as your oyster and seek your pearls suitably and wisely.

 

Love,

Dad.

The Little One Who Wouldn’t Sit

“Yeah, let’s be naughty and save Santa the trip” - Gary Allan

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Dear Riddhie,

 

The title on this post is self-explanatory and I am sure you would have figured out what this is going to be. However, this is more than a story of how you drove us to our wit’s end in a span of few minutes. It is the harrowing tale of an experience that we are unlikely to forget for a long long time and something that shall make us think ten times over before planning any excursion together for the rest of our stay in US on this trip.

 

It was one of those rare New Jersey mornings in December when we woke up to a sunny and beautiful morning with bright sunshine predicted for almost the entire day. I looked up for a preferable outdoor destination for the day and we zeroed on a place called grounds for sculpture at Hamilton. From the information that I came across about the place from its website, it looked like a very delightful place for the day and we hoped to get a few special shots of you (our favorite pastime) at the venue.

 

The place was about 45 miles from our dwellings and we started well in time. Your mom made the usual preparations and packed your diaper bag and supplies for the day. It was early in December but the wind chill factor could get the temperature down by further 5 degrees in the evening, so she made sure that you were properly covered and warm. We set out in time and 15 minutes into the drive, you fell asleep and did not wake up until we reached the venue and were all fresh. The place was essentially a huge landscaped outdoor lawn with sculptures and artworks strewn all over the place with a couple of covered galleries. The lawns were neatly maintained and there were pathways leading to the various statues and art pieces. All in all, it seemed a day conducive for some good family fun outdoors.

 

However, our woes started as soon as you were taken out of your car seat and your feet touched the ground. You winced and grimaced at the sight of your stroller being pulled out of the trunk and broke free from your mother’s hand and rushed to the other side away from the stroller. We were worried about your still unsteady feet carrying you all over the place on slippery grass lawns that had slopes and curves all along and equally concerned of you falling and hurting yourself on the hard cobbled pathway.

I guess you were partially excited and partially overwhelmed at the sight of such open space before you and just wanted to break free and run all over the place. While we thought we would spend the day strolling along gently covering as much as we could and taking pictures at every nook and corner and doing the tourist thing, you on the other hand, had other plans and clearly, the idea of a leisure walk did not go down too well with you. 

 

First, you did not wish to sit in the stroller at all and squirmed and straightened your legs and cried and threw a tantrum until we finally gave in to your wish. Your mother walked along slowly holding your hand while I kept pushing the empty pram, stopping now and then to click a picture or two. And then the inevitable happened. You slipped your hand out of your mother’s clasp and rushed on full steam on the stone tiled walkway, tripped over a jutting corner of a tile and fell flat on your face. I was walking a few steps ahead and turned around at your mother’s scream as you fell. By the time we picked you up, you were crying at the top of your voice.

You had sustained a minor bruise around your temple and thankfully it was nothing serious. Had you been any older and perhaps any more intelligent to understand speech, I would have boxed your ears and told you it serves you right and this is what happens when you do not listen to your folks. However, we were so caught up in the moment that for a seconds we did not know how to pacify you. You kept crying uncontrollably while your mom tried everything she could - ranging from giving you water, handing a cookie and the milk bottle, shaking you up, hugging you, washing your face and wiping your nose. 

It was only after a few minutes of coaxing and comforting that you finally settled in. I now wanted you back in your stroller to avoid any more falls but I guess you were still in no mood to concede. The moment I picked you up to get you in your seat, you threw your arms about, kicked me as hard you could and even got my glasses off my face and threw them to the ground. You were the epitome of being a spoilt brat and we were a perfect example of how miserable the parents of an unrelenting infant can be. By the time I managed to buckle you up a small crowd had gathered around us. Other visitors were throwing us glances and snickering and talking in hushed whispers. A few of the good Samaritans had the nerve to walk up to us and even exclaim, “Is she alright?” Our parenting skills were totally blown apart and publically disgraced for sure.

Your mother tried to sit aside on a bench to coax you – you straightened your legs and screamed even harder. She tried bribing you with a cookie – you flung it back at her face. She tried getting you to sip some water – you filled your mouth and then let it out all over your clothes. She pulled out one of your toys – you threw it as far as you could on the ground.

 

After much persuasion when we finally could get you to an agreeable state, you decided to take it back upon us. As long as we kept moving, you chose to remain silent but the moment we stopped to admire an artifact or to click a picture, you would start with your hollering.

Eventually we had to have you back on your feet and walking all over but now you did not even wish to hold our hands and wanted to be on your own. There were couple of peacocks roaming around free in the lawns and I tried to distract you and walked you over to them. But I guess by that time you were through with the place. You showed minimal interest in the peacocks and went about hating us for not giving you your freedom and kept crying.

 

The place was being decorated for the upcoming holiday season and we were hoping to stay until the lights came on. The trees and sculptures were covered in various lights and perhaps you would have liked it too but then we never stood a chance with you then. Eventually we drove back just as about the lights were coming up. Surprisingly, the moment you were back in your car seat and we were on our way back, you settled down nice and easy and were back to your normal self. For the records, you slept easy within five minutes and we sat in silence all our way back contemplating what just happened.

 

I guess it makes for a funny read now and maybe we shall tease you about being such a brat in years to come but trust me, it was one of the days that reminded us of the day you attended your first important wedding in the family (Read Here).

Perhaps there would be days that shall make us look back on this day with gratitude and this definitely would be a good story to tell you when you would be screaming at your kids some day. Who knows? Maybe until then I shall look back and take lesson from the day to reflect that you are your own person with your own free mind. I guess as parents, we shall try and be cognizant of this fact and will let you make your own decisions and take your own path. But at the same time we would also like you to see our reasons, for ensuring your seat belt and safety nets are secure in the same light. Though at times it would be unavoidable but as your parents we wouldn’t want you falling down and getting hurt – be it walking down your education or career path or just running around in the lawns as the case is now. Hope you would grow up to be mature enough to know the difference.

 

Love,

Dad.