Beckett's Murphy Laws: One more

I will wake up and cry every time you and Mom get frisky with each other and try to do something funny !

Beckett's Murphy Laws

1. Pooping:

My frequency is inversely proportional to how many people there are in the house and how many wet wipes are left. It is has a co-relation of 1 with you cooking food  

2. Falling Sleep:

I will stay up till / beyond midnight the day before you have a big meeting or review

The intensity of my desire to sleep is inversely proportional to your desperation

3. Eating:

If it moves, I will try to put it in my mouth. If it doesn't move, I'll still try to put it in my mouth

I will want boobs when they are not around

4. Playing:

I will really really really want to go out to the park when you are most tired and ready to drop dead

I want you to lift me up. Always.

5. Smiling:

My propensity to smile at strangers is directly proportional to how mortified Mom is of what they may do to me

Discovering amazingly pointless and irrelevant things that make me laugh will be your greatest joys in life

6. Attention:

My attention span is directly and exponentially proportional to how much you want me to avoid that object / activity

My need for attention is directly proportional to how tired or busy you are

Thank You

Every morning, somewhere between 7 and 8, Beckett wakes up. She wears the most beatific smile on her face and some days I'm fortunate to be able to witness it. Yesterday was one such day.

She opens her eyes, sees my face, and without any second thoughts flashes that smile. It is as if she is telling me Thank You!

Thank you for being here, for taking care of me, for keeping me safe and comfortable, for feeding me, for cleaning me, for taking me out for our walks, for singing to me, for enduring all my antics and acrobatics, for being there when I fall asleep, for everything that you and mummy and everyone else do to keep me happy.

In response, I say a little Thank You back to Beckett.

Thank you for choosing to come into this world through me, for the indescribable joy you bring to me, for teaching me everyday the amazing, invaluable, and simple little lessons that you do, for finding happiness in the smallest and goofiest of things that I do, for being so kind and compassionate and patient with me and my foibles, for loving me even though I can't understand you right now, for being my daughter.

I flash the most grateful smile back at her. 

P.S: At least 95% of the credit for the 'Thank You' that Beckett says belongs to Missus. I could not have asked for a better Mother for my child.        

Pappa's Uses

1. Basic level Roller Coaster with safety harness

2. Music Curator

3. Court Jester

4. Car

5. Driver

6. Kindle Audio

7. Awesome Cradle / Bed

8. Janitor

9. ATM

10. Photographer, Biographer warts and all

Pappa and Kaaka's Beckett Jokes

Things you need to know: Beckett was christened Aarvi Samyak Pandya

(Pappa playing the bansuri (Bamboo flute) and Beckett listening to it attentively.)

Pappa: (in his mind) 'Listens with intent. Must give her the flute to see what she does with it!'

Beckett: (in her mind) 'Ooh, new thing! Must put in mouth!'

Pappa: (in his mind) 'Aarvi Pandya or Aarvi Panda ?' 

Atman Kaaka: 'Aarvi Human or Aarvi Dancer?'

Beckett: 'Abba....ba....ab...ba....ab...ba...' (Babbling)

Pappa: No beta. The right band is Pink Floyd or The Beatles. But we say Thank You for the music nonetheless !

Beckett: 'Gau...baa...' (Babbling)

Pappa: No beta. The right first word to speak is 'Gleba'!

Beckett's Uses

When life gives you a lemon, make lemonade. Or when it gives you a hammer, nail everything that you can. Okay, this doesn't make sense or isn't even pertinent to the point I'm trying to make.

But very often children can, without much effort if any, bog the parents down. And if not able to manage them with entrepreneurial engagement, parents can wreak havoc in both their and their children's lives. So while you cannot prevent the kid from taking over your life, there's a hell lot that one can do to make the most of it.

This is what I refer to as Beckett's Uses.

1. Dynamic Barbell: I prefer carrying Beckett in my hands rather than using a sling or a carrier or a pram. Given that she puts on around 200 gms every week, my arms have that much time to adjust to the new weight category. That said, I do two sets of bicep curls and other arm exercises using Beckett as the prop.

2. TV Repellent: Watching incessant amounts of TV was the biggest saboteur of my future when I was much younger. Whereas Missus was so busy with sports and dance and academics that she hardly watched any TV. So both of us unanimously agree that watching TV is the devil. However, Beckett keeps both of us so occupied that we have no time for the devil. So bye bye TV.

3. Sleep Deprivation Machine: This one applies more to Missus and much less to me. But something that wakes you up with impeccable regularity every 2 hours to suck the living daylights out of you and more often than not accompanies it with a change of nappies and sheets definitely is going to deprive you of your sleep. But once you master this challenge, everything else in life seems like a cake walk

4. Patience Cultivator: If I see it, I will want to grab and eat it. If I feel something, I will cry and not stop till I'm convinced otherwise. I will not tell you what is bothering me (I can't, you stupid Dodos), but you have to do everything to take care of me. I will pee and poop and puke on your pants and shirts and under garments and there is nothing you can do about it. You cannot shout at me or beat the crap out of me or do anything that bad parents do. I have to be fed with relentless discipline. You have to ensure that I don't hurt myself. You will constantly have to find new ways to keep me entertained else I will cry like there is no tomorrow. I am the best patience teacher you will ever have in your life and your life will be better off for having been patient with me.

More in another instalment (Sound proofer, New syntax developer, Smile generator, Procrastination eliminator among others).    

Dad Bod

I'm sure all of you have heard about Dad Bod.

But somebody forgot to tell Missus and Beckett about it though. Ever since I went on my latest 30 day 'No Sugar' challenge, I've lost more than 3 kg. And a lot of it has been thanks to Missus and Beckett being back home.

My daily regimen has now drastically been altered to include at least 2 daily 15 minute walks with the currently 6 kg and fast growing Beckett held in my arms. It also includes at least one sleeping ritual which I hope you are well versed with by now, and at least 2 playing sessions with her.

With Missus back, I don't order food from restaurants anymore (No, I  don't expect her to cook for me. It is just that she needs certain type of food, which is really good for my body).

So Pappa is turning into an Anti Dad Bod.

However, I'm currently out on a 6 day training program, terribly missing Beckett and her mother, and exposed to 3 all you can eat buffets on a daily basis. This is a great test of my will power when it comes to the desserts and so far I've fought temptation successfully. But I'm sure I've undone all the good work of the past 4 weeks and will have to start from ground zero come Sunday morning.

Well, this doesn't Bod well for Dad !

7 ways in which Parenthood forces you to become a better Leader

1. Point of no return:  This is the single biggest thing that separates the great leaders from the good and not so good ones. Becoming or deciding to become a parent is a really foolish thing to do (But as Stewart Brand and later Steve Jobs said 'Stay hungry Stay foolish'). Much the same way as starting your own venture or pet project or writing a book or composing music. But parenthood, unlike these other things, forces one into a situation where the 'flight' option is literally taken away the moment you make a conscious choice to become a parent. The only option available is 'fight' and go through the proverbial brick wall to reach one's destination. There is no option of unbecoming a parent once the kid is born; the point of no return has been crossed. The best leaders willingly put themselves in these situations, again and again. And they achieve this through public declarations and burning the bridges to anything that is likely to cause them to retreat from their goals. Of course, like every parent, they will pivot, search for different ways to achieve what is best for the issue, but the commitment to the goal is unwavering and relentless. 

2. Focus and De-clutter: As one goes along in life, one keeps accumulating habits and wants. One keeps adding and adding and keeps feeling stressed about them. Becoming a parent forces one to de-clutter the space that is life. Kids need time, attention, love, and money; and in dollops the size of the Titanic. And all these limited resources can be made available to the child only when one lets go of and unburdens one's countless unnecessary trappings and distractions. Same goes for a great leader. Limited resources that need wise deployment automatically implies a need to focus on only the most important things. Go check any turnaround story of the last century and this is a theme that will resonate in everyone of them.

3. Collaboration and Team work: Great parents and families raise a child together. They take turns, cover for each other, and sacrifice much for the betterment of the child. They look for the best schools and tutors and extra curricular academies to ensure that their kids get the best chance of achieving their true potential. Similarly, great leaders are multipliers and win-win thinkers. They ask for help, share responsibilities and rewards with partners, bring in talent to fortify strengths and overcome weaknesses, and are constantly looking for the best ways to further their causes.

4. Net Giving: Once someone becomes a parent, the purpose of one's life shifts dramatically from one's own development and achievements to that of the child. It is not that one gives up on his or her personal goals. It is just the opposite; the realization that there is a purpose greater than one's own self and that the achievement of that purpose leads to the fulfillment of one's so called personal goals. A manager focuses on one's own development. But the leader's biggest job is to develop others and make their lives more fulfilling; and in that development and fulfillment lies the leader's true success and legacy. Both Parents and true leaders are net sowers of seeds. The growing of the trees and blooming of the flowers is their reward. Both put their children and teams before themselves. They give give and give without expecting anything in return. And hence they get 10 times more in return. Law of the Universe. True Story.  

5. Constant learning: New borns live in a world of their own. It is the parents' job to learn the ways of their world and keep up with the blistering pace at which that world changes. This is only possible if one is willing to learn, unlearn, and relearn quickly, really quickly. Much of this is OJT (On the job training), but parenting is also an exercise in inordinate desktop research, wide consultations, and books, books, and books. The best parents not only keep up with their kids but also learn fast enough to be able to hold their respect well into the children's adulthood. This facilitates mature conversations and lessens the likelihood of a generation gap. Similarly, leaders have to lead in VUCA (Volatile Uncertain Complex and Ambiguous) environments where disruption is now becoming the norm. The only way to survive is to constantly learn from those smarter and more knowledgeable than oneself, completing um teem courses at Coursera, and through books, books, and books.      

6. Constant improvement: I'm obsessed with keeping track of my child's progress. Weight, height, first date of smiling, rolling over, rolling back, babbling, and many other things. And then checking against three benchmarks. 1. Median statistics 2. My own self  and 3. The 99th percentile (In a CAT obsessed country, can you blame me for this?). However, this stems more from a belief that each successive generation should be 10X the previous and it is the role of the previous generation to facilitate this 10X journey, and less from a competitive mindset. Great leaders create an environment of constant improvement on a daily basis (what we know as Kaizen), but at the same time facilitate the 10 X jump for their teams.              

7. Celebration: Parents think the world of their kids, as if they are God's gift to mankind; even if the rest of the world thinks otherwise. Parents celebrate (and must celebrate) the smallest achievements (and even the greatest of debacles as long as they were a result of sincere effort) of their kids. This in turn encourages the kids to do better. Parents provide the kids with the confidence and pluck needed to navigate this big bad complex competitive world through these little celebrations. And although once in a while parents must also hold the mirror of reality in front of them, these celebrations lay the foundation of the 'Can do and will do' attitude. One never knows which small celebration or word of encouragement can change the course of the child's life. The same goes with leadership. Victories are few and far between, but one never knows which victory or which failure will change the course of the cause. Hence it is important to acknowledge and celebrate them.      

This is by no means a comprehensive list. I'm sure this list can be extended to 10, 25, 50, 100, and 1000 before creative fatigue sets in. This post is an attempt to partly explain a highly complex and supposedly elite discipline through a fundamental human function that is understood and experienced by most people.   

The Sleep Whisperer

So yours truly is finally done and dusted with Bachelorhood Redux. Over the weekend Beckett and Missus and FIL and MIL and yours truly made the not so long (but torturous nonetheless) journey from Baroda to Mumbai. So I have now gone from being a fly by night helicopter Dad to being a full time father. This transition is tough for everyone involved; Missus - because she will miss the sheer comfort and indulgence of getting pampered by her parents; Me - because Beckett just gobbles up time and attention and mind space like a black hole and leaves little room for anything else; Nani - because she will have to have to go back to Baroda after 3 weeks.

But the person who is most distraught about this is FIL. For all practical purposes, he has been Beckett's father for the last 4 odd months. He has done everything, from taking Beckett out for morning walks, to having extremely mature conversations with her, to helping with Nappy changing, to holding, rocking, whispering in her ears tirelessly till she finally fell asleep, to the dirty job of administering the vaccines. Thrice everyday, both Missus and Beckett looked forward to to him coming back from the dispensary to give them a welcome break from each other. And on his part, he was very happy to help them out and regale in living his childhood as well as fatherhood days once again. He has played his role with such dedication and devotion, that as a father I feel that this will be a tough and almost impossible act to follow.

As the day of departure from Baroda neared, all of us started coming to terms with reality and the inevitable separation that grandfather and granddaughter will have to experience. Given that Beckett has literally taken over his life since her arrival in June, the empty and silent house that FIL will return to will definitely feel like a box of presents that was filled with amazing experiences and bliss but is now empty leaving behind only fond wistful memories. 

It is a macabre thought, but i can't help comparing this whole change to the process of dying. The whole journey of life is so wondrous and joyful, that embarking on the next stage - not knowing what lies beyond, just fills everyone with such grief and sadness. 

I'm extremely lucky and proud and incredibly grateful to have such in laws, and FIL in particular. To me he will always be my daughter's first father and her Sleep Whisperer. 

The Sleep Routine

So Beckett turns really irate when she is sleepy. She doesn't like being confined to the boring bedroom and needs a special routine to fall asleep. She has a clear cut time bound escalation mechanism to ensure that her bidding is done. At first she politely gives you the look, then babbles. If that doesn't elicit an appropriate reciprocation, she shouts; and then when you have finally got her goat, she will unleash the big banshee guns.

Essentially she wants to be picked up and rocked in a swaying motion till she falls asleep. You can see the illustration below.

Some clarifications: 

1. At no point does she leave my or her grandfather's hands during this routine. Although it looks like it, there is no levitation involved in this tehcnique.

2. In step 3, it is my beard that has grown considerably.

So there is an upside and a downside to this routine. 

Upside: Great biceps. 

Downside: Bad compulsive addiction, extremely time consuming and need to master another landing technique to avoid a painful Promethean perplexing perpetuating process (because once she falls asleep, she has to be put in her bed eventually; and that is the most difficult part).     

Pappa is trying to unlearn and learn faster than she can, but has a tough time keeping up. Mummy has become a pro by now.

Beckett Speak - 2

In 2007, I wrote a poem about a girl. I don't have it with me anymore and I don't remember anything about that poem today except that it had a 'garrulous lass' in it.

The long vacant office of the 'garrulous lass' has a new occupant now. And boy does she love talking!

From goo goos and ga gas to peacock like screeches to Arabic, Japanese, and Bhojpuri sounding noises, this kid has a vast vocabulary in her repertoire. Add to it the fact that Grandpa has extremely mature conversations with her everyday and Dad reads Jack and the Bean stalk and was contemplating reading Tuesdays with Morrie (It was my read this weekend and I was really tempted to multi task) to her. So while she still can't talk, or to be more precise, while we can't currently understand what she is trying to talk about, she still tries really hard to make us understand.

There is a melodic lilt, a cogent intent, and a definite message in those cryptic aural delights that we are treated to; more and more often with every passing day.  

As a boy, I feel sorry for the boys who will have the fortune / misfortune of coming in contact with my daughter. She is going to mesmerize and wound as many hapless souls with her words as with her gaze. The kind of trouble this heady concoction of beauty and intelligence invites is not funny. I worry about this too from time to time and think that this is a prophetic inevitability that I brought upon myself when I wrote that poem. 

P.S: 3 and a half months in, being a parent is definitely much tougher than getting and raising a Dog or a pet. But through the discomfort you can clearly see the magic happening to your own self. As I mentioned in one of the earlier posts, the finished product is not the child; it is the parent.   

Pappa gets serious, again

This post is for my father.

Amidst the earth shattering chaos of C-sections and Cerelac formulae and sleepless nights and soiled nappies and sessions of physiotherapy and severe diet restrictions and sullen visits to paediatricians and strollers and swaddling and soul searching and sentences of solitude that follow the birth of a child, there is one small thing that everyone completely forgets and ignores and takes completely for granted. The Father.

Suddenly from being a care free, swear word spewing, living in the moment, irresponsible boy, he is expected to transform into an epitome of a role model. And for most part, he does. Sometimes he already is an epitome of a role model and doesn't need to change much. But instead of living in the moment , he now starts living in the future. Schools, Houses, Skills, Money, Health, Security and so many other things start playing on and overpowering his mind.

If he is lucky like me, he has most of the things sorted out thanks to all the opportunities his parents and near ones and society have given him and his spouse.

But in his mind and heart, he is terrified. He is afraid that his one wrong step will screw up an innocent little life and many more. For all the possibilities and optimism stories that he keeps telling the world and himself, he is desperately praying for wings to grow as he keeps jumping off cliffs.

His juggling act keeps becoming more and more complicated as more balls keep getting added and he keeps losing the option of dropping any of these balls; one by one. And in the process he keeps losing himself to the relentless beatings of time and circumstance.

So while he is out there fulfilling expectations, protecting everyone he loves and everyone who looks to him for security, there is a time and place in his vast wasteland of loneliness where he needs to be protected; not from the world or the forces of nature or divinity, but from the darkness of doubts and indecision and uncertainty, from his own self and what he may end up making of himself if he isn't.

I didn't know any better back then. I was too young. I'm sorry, for everything.

P.S: Thanks Roy.

 

Sorry

Pappa is sorry. Pappa is really, really sorry. But it had to be done.

Enjoy the Ganapatis my dearest.

Achievement Unlocked

She's started turning over on her own. Good part is the Achievement Unlocked and the muscles now getting activated. 

Bad part is that she can't turn back and extra vigilance will now be needed to ensure that she does not fall down from the bed, or worse still, suffocate under the weight of her own head.  

The worst part is that Pappa missed it again and has no clue how many more things he will have to miss out on.

Bachelorhood redux side effects

From the moment your children are born, you worry what the world might do to them...but you never stop to think what you might do to them. That we could be our worst enemy.

- Moira Queen

There are only two lasting bequests we can hope to give our children. One of these is roots, the other, wings.

- Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe

Before I had kids, I always found it funny how people would talk about their children like they were the cutest things on the planet and how every little thing they did was endlessly fascinating. Now that I've had kids, I can say with certainty that, my children really are the cutest things on this planet and every little thing they do is endlessly fascinating... 

- Jennifer Miller

The guys who fear becoming fathers don't understand that fathering is not something perfect men do, but something that perfects the man. The end product of child raising is not the child, but the parent.

- Frank Pittman

Your children are not your children.

They are sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself. 

They come through you but not from you.

And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,

For they have their own thoughts.

You may house their bodies but not their souls,

For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.

You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.

For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.

The archer sees the make upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.

Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness.

For even as He loves the arrow that flies, so He also loves the bow that is stable.

-Kahlil Gibran

What a kid I got, I told him about the birds and the bees and he told me about the butcher and my wife.

- Rodney Dangerfield

Somebody Gonna get a hurt Real Bad !!!

-Russel Peters's father

Vaccines, Teachers, and More

I hate vaccination days. Am glad to have a doctor father in law who hates them as well. Since this was supposed to be a vaccination weekend, I decided to do some studying of my own. And I realized that Indian kids have to take a F***ing whole lot of vaccines! It is like taking exams even before school starts.

The good part is that in our infinite wisdom, both FIL and yours truly decided that the vaccines could wait for another month. In fact, it is better to space them apart so that the earlier dose can do its job well.

So it ended up being one of the best weekends Pappa and Beti had together. Took Aarvi and Missus to the park, visited Baa, sang many songs and talked a lot to my 2  1/2 month old, and inadvertently ended up showing Missus that Pappa really is a good father.

Also, with teachers' day being celebrated on the 5th, wanted to acknowledge what Missus (selflessness, fanatic discipline, sacrifice, and ability to bear physical pain) and Aarvi (single minded focus, the art of charming, learning to learn, asking for help) have taught me over the last two and half months. Here's to these two amazing teachers of mine.

Last, but not the least, also experienced first hand how much of a tough time Aarvi is going to have with two hyper competitive parents who have mutually exclusive interests and definitions of actualization. Was playing 'Locha - e - Ulfat' on youtube and singing it out loud to Aarvi when Missus realized the conversion / proselytization that was happening. And to ensure that 'Dance' did not lose out to 'Singing', Missus started busting a few Bharatnatyam moves to the song. So looking back and forth between an animatedly yodeling father wanting her to become a singer and a bombastically move busting mother wanting her to become a dancer, she has not experienced a more confusing incident in her life.     

Silly Love Songs

You think that Pappa would've had enough of silly love songs.

But he looks around and he sees it isn't so

Some people want to fill the world with silly love songs

What's wrong with that

He'd like to know

'cause here he goes again

One of the countless things that my beautiful daughter has taught me is how beautiful, universal, and malleable the emotion of love is. Before she was born, love to me was the 'boy meet girl, girl meets boy, they fall in love' type of love. I've loved before; the extreme, passionate, loyal, blind, forever, heart breaking kind. And even before that, I've always been in love with 'the one' in my mind since I was a little kid. That should explain my humongous vocabulary of love songs; my way of talking to 'the one'.

After becoming a father, I've realised that I can sing most of the love songs to Aarvi and they'd be just as applicable but would elicit a completely different emotion. It would still be the highest form of love, but in a completely different one. In a way she has now become 'the one', but in a different way.

Take 'Masha Allah' from Saanwariya. My most favourite love song ever. I could sing this song to both Nidhi and Aarvi with absolute fealty to both and mean completely two different things. Take 'Nothing's gonna change my love for you', same thing or 'Tum Mile' from Tum Mile or 'Your Song' by Elton John. And the list keeps going on and on. Pick one at random and there is more than a good chance that it will work.

If you don't get what I'm trying to say, its fine. The limitations are mine. Someday, somehow, you will know, and you will realize what a sweet little, life changing, perception altering eureka it is. 

Dad, singer

One of the most enjoyable things I do as a father is sing to Aarvi.

Of course it is part of my strategy to turn her into an enchanting, over achieving, genius, polyglot. I've so f***ing turned into the stereotypical over competitive Indian parent.

It all started with me playing the flute to her while she was still in hospital room. Then I played 'I hope you dance' on my computer. It was the Status Message Aunt's first gift to her.

But the paranoid over protective Missus was quite sure that both of these were going to blow up her tender ear drums. So, like the Indian government, she banned both my flute and youtube videos (I did warn you in the 1st post itself that hyperboles are fair game).

And so I took to clandestinely singing to my new born daughter.

But shit got real about a couple of weeks ago when I sung 'Ho gaya hai phir pyaar tumse' from 'Tanu weds Manu 2'.

I was just into the first line when she flashed the most beautiful smile I'd ever seen. My first reaction was to dismiss it as gas or a fluke or something else. But as I continued, she smiled again. It was as if she was responding to the notes of the raag Bhoopali (and a couple of more that made the song). As a musician and as a father, my joy knew no bounds.

But I was still sceptical. So after I returned to Mumbai, I started sending a song a day that Missus could play to her. It seems Aarvi is a connoisseur of live music and does not enjoy recorded music.

So this time when I went on my weekly trip, I sang to her again. I started singing 'Preet' from Khoobsurat. Again similar notes as the earlier song. And by the time I was into the first line, there it was! That trillion dollar smile!

That just opened the flood gates. Pappa just couldn't stop after that. He sang 'Colours of the wind', 'Radha hi baawree', 'Chaandaniya', and many other songs. And believe you me, the smiles kept coming. It was a 95% hit ratio.

I may be completely nuts here, but I believe that she understands music (even though she's not yet two months old) and responds to it, and more importantly it makes her happy.

And there is nothing more that Dad could want. I would keep singing for the rest of my life to keep that smile on her face.

P.S: One of the songs that the stereotypical over competitive Indian parent in me prescribed for her was 'Ann Marie Calhoun vs. Samvel Yervinyan'. Go listen to it if you haven't. The 3 minute violin duet / duel is the best thing that you will hear today. 

Beckett Speak

'I liked Dad better with his beard. Right now he looks as if he's just a couple of years older to me. I didn't recognize him when he came this time.'

'Dad is so predictable. He bought me a stuffed toy. Guess what it was! Hobbes! So cliche!'

'I hate vaccines. F***ing couldn't lift my right leg for two full days! But more than that you never know how many times those damn things are going to prick you. The old bald guy keeps coming back with those sharp needles.'

'Both Mom and Dad are both pussies! I stopped crying before them after they gave me the vaccines! Also had to pretend to be in deep sleep for two hours so that they could take a trip to the mall and buy some stuff.'

'I can't get my timing right. Have tried hard to poop in Dad's hands thrice. But could only manage to fart. Managed to pee on him today when he was prepping me up or a bath. Some consolation!'

'I like the songs that Dad plays for me when he's here. He's got good taste.'

'Mom's Boobs > everything else. A girl's gotta do what she's gotta do. #StayingAlive.'

The Starer

Her stare can mesmerise anyone.

Eyes that look at one with such intent, with so many questions, patient yet restless, piercing yet unwavering.

The questions are different for different faces, she knows whom to ask what. 

And in her sharp, agile gaze she also hides her secrets.

Pappa gets serious

Nanhi Kali, an affiliate organisation of the company I work with is currently doing a 'Proud fathers for daughters' campaign. Prime Minister Modi recently did a #Selfiewithdaughter campaign just after Aarvi was born. I received plenty of messages suggesting that it would be a good idea to participate in these campaigns.  

The thing is that I'm what you would call a pseudo private person. I'm not on facebook. Am on twitter but rarely post anything personal there. Have 3 blogs; this one is public for the time being (given that only a single reader somewhere in the US reads it), another is accessible only to 5 other readers, and one is just for me. There is a set of people whom I care about and / or trust (and want to be cared by and / or trusted by). I open up and reach out to them; sometimes for attention, sometimes for advice, and sometimes because I just want them to know what is going on in my life and vice versa. Other than that, I generally keep to myself.

I stoutly refused to participate in any of these campaigns because I had no interest in being mentioned by a famous person or being seen with my daughter by millions of people. 

And then Shruti Seth happened to twitter. (Read from bottom to top). I disagree with her calling the #selfiewithdaughter campaign an eye wash. Here is a guy (I'm an unabashed, unapologetic supporter of our PM) trying to create awareness about one of the worst problems in India. Questioning his intent definitely reeked of bad faith or complete lack of knowing how change is brought about. That said, she had every right to say what she said.

The reactions to her tweet however (some mentioned in the article I've linked), vindicated completely my decision not to participate in these campaigns. It is precisely these kind of people (can they be called that?) I want to avoid coming in contact with me or my daughter.   

After Aarvi's birth this trait has hardened further. Before writing mails or sharing dropbox links of her photos, I wonder if I'm sending them to the right folks. Some I've regretted sending, some I've regretted not sending immediately. 

The instinct to protect her, the hapless paranoia of not knowing what and who to protect her from, and the humbling realisation that someday I'll have to learn to be bigger than this crippling fear, are new to me. These are emotional and intellectual nerve centers I never knew existed in me.

Will need time and help.  

Paternity Policy - Update

There is no fucking paternity leave. Not even those two fucking days! They were something else. 

Should I go on a public rant about this on twitter (I'm not on facebook) and risk losing my job? 

Should I just not fucking care and change jobs as a protest against this travesty?

What a horrible organisation am I working with?

It is good that I've accumulated so much leave over the last 6 years that I was comfortably able to spend two weeks with my ailing wife and new born daughter.

For all the Vision and Ambition and Driving Positive Change and Rise that we talk about, this is one piece of absolute douche baggery !  

If you are wondering where this rant came from, read this.

I'm not crazy - Part 1

I was comfortably sleeping in my dark sack when the first alien made contact. It literally tore open the atmospheric layer and tried to grab me. But I was in no mood to get kidnapped. I pushed back into the dark sack. 

Not to mention that I hate it when somebody wakes me up. It ruins the rest of the day and robs me of my productivity. Around Mid day I start feeling the slump. The motivation to kick or drink my own pee or stare at that funny long serpentine tube around my neck just vanishes around afternoon. Not the mention the dark circles that I get. Oh I so hate it when someone wakes me up. 

That's when the other alien tried to push the ground beneath my feet towards the cut in the atmosphere. It felt as if the heavens were collapsing down to the earth or the earth was rising to the stars. And this scared me. I'd learnt to deal with pokes and pushes and the universe getting space crunched from time to time. But this was different. 

My suspicion was finally proved right. Aliens exist! And they've finally made contact! Let's play the Carpenters' Interplanetary craft song! But these aliens seemed aggressive and I was worried.

Then suddenly there was a lot of light and some weird red gooey liquid flowing all around. And lots of confusing noises. I thought for a fleeting moment of triumph that the Alien mechanism was malfunctioning and they were beating a retreat. I would go back happily to sleep in my dark sack again. But that's when it happened and I was proved utterly wrong!

You remember how in 'This is the End' everyone gets sucked up into the sky? 'Beam me up Scottie' types? An alien probe came in and started sucking my head towards the skies and before I knew the aliens had pulled me into outer space. 

It was so bright! And disorienting! and Uncomfortable! 

This weird green alien came and removed that funny tube from around my neck. I didn't like it. That tube was mine. And just as I was coming to terms with the separation from my home and the funny tube, it came and cut the tube! That was it. 'Aata Maajhi Satakli', I said. But before I could throw my fit, another alien grabbed me by the legs and hung me up side down and started hitting me from behind. I yelped in pain and some funny noises came out of my facial cavity and some weird invisible substance entered the facial cavity and the two holes above it! I swear I did not know that those two holes existed. And before I could come to terms with this exhilarating experience, a third Alien came and wrapped me in funny binding material. I felt like Frodo after being stabbed and wrapped into a cocoon by Shelob the spider.

And then started the incessant passing the parcel. The third alien handed me over to a new kind of aliens. They looked different, They were not green or did not look like green blobs. But they kept passing me from one alien to another and pointed strange devices at me and made weird noises. 

Its been two weeks since these crazy aliens abducted me. I cannot even begin to relate all the crazy things they've done with me. (Who pours one liquid in the facial cavity and one liquid all over the body and then rubs it?). Sometimes I feel they are marinating me before the feast. Sometimes I feel there is more to this than meets the eye.

I'll tell you more bout these aliens later, but trust me, I'm not crazy.  

P.S: I don't know how I know about 'This is the end' and 'Scottie' and 'Frodo' and 'Aata Maajhi Satakli'. The aliens seems to have implanted false memories in me or maybe this is genetically encoded or maybe this is a case of 'Punar Janam' (re-birth) or maybe its just Dad being completely filmy.

Week 1

What she learnt:

1. To suckle
2. To have food without throwing up
3. What a  bath and massage feel like
4. What the baansuri (bamboo flute) sounds like
5. What sunlight looks and feels like
6. How to cry like a banshee and get everybody's attention
7. Dad's arms are the safest and most comfortable place in the world

What I learnt:

1. Infants are born with more than a dozen genetically programmed reflexes
2. The amount of physical trauma and damage that mothers undergo during and after childbirth is simply heart breaking
3. Infants might look extremely delicate and fragile, but are tough cookies
4. What dogged, single minded, relentless focus on a goal (food) looks like
5. Everything I've done till date was a cake walk
6. Sleep is a thing of the past
7. Soiled, smelly nappies, and cleaning them isn't as deadly as I thought it would be. (Achievement unlocked) !   

P.S: A big Thank you to The Status message girl for giving Aarvi her first song (I hope you dance) and to The Sadist for reminding me what parenthood is supposed to be and to Aarjav for giving me the best practical advice on how to get through this period. 

Beckett

Blog, meet Beckett.

 

 

Of course, that's not her real name! It stays till we find a real one for her.

 

So I will tell you all about how Beckett came to be, as soon as I have the time. But it should suffice to know that Beckett is the most beautiful girl I've seen in my life or 've allowed to poop in my lap.

 

She loves her Dad and stops crying when she's with him. She gazes into his dark brown eyes with her pitch black ones and sometimes grants him a smile or two.

 

This is Day 1. 

 

Possimpible

Growing up, I never visualized myself ever becoming a father. I always dreamed of finding a beautiful woman and spending the rest of my life with her. And that was it. Like the fairy tales, my thing ended at the Happily Ever After. I could never imagine growing up.

The process of becoming a father is changing this. I now worry about someone other than myself. I now wonder what the best school will be, or if home schooling may be a better option (I've always thought that school is a colossal waste of time and potential). I now think of what books I should be reading out to the kid and when is a good time to introduce him / her to Atlas Shrugged and The Fountainhead. I now think of which musical instrument will he or she want to play and what sport will be best for him or her. I now think of what should be on the playlist and what cartoons will he or she love watching.

I can now imagine my child holding my finger while learning to navigate this big bad world, I can see him or her clinging on to my leg when scared, I can see him or her giving me a warm hug on graduation day, and I can see him or her crying inconsolably at my pyre.

The thing about bringing a child in this world is that one is creating possibilities; possibilities that one never thought existed; both for the child and for those raising that child. While I shape the future of my child, try my best to equip him or her in his or her pursuit of happiness and purpose, the child will do the same for me.

I can't wait for my baby to be here. He / she has an amazing set of people waiting to take care of him / her. The Possimpible is waiting to happen.

Wait, where did that grey hair come from? This is f***ing not happening to me!  

Missing Missus

I miss Missus. It is probably because I'm not the one dealing with her swollen feet and mood swings and unreasonable cravings. 

I just like having her around. Like when she calls me in to sleep when I'm engrossed in watching crappy news channels on TV. Or when she asks me what I want to eat and I'm in the middle of my 20th push up. Or when I'm in deep thought writing some really poignant stuff and she goes, 'Honey, you should not let the baby become fussy about food the way you are. The baby should be disciplined like me.'

It is true that distance makes the heart grow fonder. But forced solitude also confuses the brain. 

So very often, while missing Missus, I find myself missing many other things. Like my father, who died more than 20 years ago. Like the once close friend who hasn't spoken to me (and vice versa) in 3 years (We fulfill our obligations of silence with unmatched fealty). Like the Summer and Diwali vacations the last of which I saw 6 years ago. Like living in my own home, something that I've not done in the last 3 years. All these things still keep popping in my mind from time to time dropping by in my dreams (nightmares) occasionally. They shake me to the core and then wake me up. 

And then I go back to missing Missus; awaiting the drive back home when I talk a full 23 minutes with her on the phone (I use the blue tooth of the car) and find peace and comfort in her seeming inanities and sweet nothings. 

Missing Missus has become my favourite past time. Devoid of the ferocity of wallowing, it is a sweet little wound that I enjoy licking just enough that it does not fester, nor heals.  

     

Fua

My Niece - 'Anaaya' made me a Fua (Father's sister's husband).

I wish I can be one tenth as good a Fua as mine and I wish she never has to need her Fua one tenth as much as I needed mine (And Thank God he was there when I needed him).

I can say this with absolute certainty that my Fua is the best there can ever be.

Trial run reality check

Have you ever wondered how the child birth (the actual delivery process) is initiated? My theory is that either one of two things happen.

1. The child doesn't have any more room to grow or maneuver and hence is forced to come out

2. Children like me would've just got bored and said 'I'm out of here' and pushed.

My brother in law (Missus's brother) and his wife too were expecting and yesterday began with a bang! News poured in that Geeta (Sis in Law) has gone into labour. And by the time we could come to grip with what is going on - Father in law got emotional since this was one month pre-mature, Bro in Law was still in Saudi Arabia since this was one month pre-mature, Stem cell collection decisions were not yet taken since this was one month pre-mature, Travel itineraries were to be hastily made since this was one month pre-mature- the kid was out. 

This is when it struck me that I'me very likely to be in this situation about 30 to 45 days from now. And as grateful as I'm for a trial run reality check, I was freaking out.

But then this happened (What would we do without Whatsapp and wireless internet) and fear was literally engorged by wonder and amazement. 2.9 kg, angelic, and absolutely healthy.

  My new born niece next to her mother

We are now in the home stretch and things are getting crazy. 

Here's to creating more chaos and making order out of it.

Bachelorhood redux

After getting married, I'd always fantasised how amazing it would be to go back to my bachelor life. No strings attached, no restrictions on sleep time, and no hassles of eating food or doing household chores by the clock.

Let me tell you, it is not as much fun as I thought it would be. In fact it's dreary and depressing. With Atman working now, and Mom retired, bachelorhood redux is not something that yours truly is enjoying.

What led to this, you ask?

Missus has a father who is a doctor and Missus grew up in Baroda.

A woman's body and mind undergo tremendous change and flux during pregnancy. There is no way someone as self absorbed and as harrowed with work as I can understand or respond to those changing needs and behaviours better than Nidhi's own mother. Also, it is sort of a tradition in India that the mother to be goes to her parents' place for the birth of the first child.

In short, Missus gave a big thumbs down to my ability and bandwidth to manage and be useful during and after the child birth process. And I would grudgingly agree; although given a chance I'm absolutely confident, I would've delivered (pun unintended). 

So after the baby shower, Missus headed to Baroda and as much as I thought it  not possible, both yours truly and Missus got emotional when she was leaving.

And thus began my at least four month period of bachelorhood redux, something that I was so looking forward to. 

Two weeks in, I'm all sleep deprived, fatigued, and disorganised.

In the last two weeks I've undertaken at least 7 to 8, 30 day experiments (practice the baansuri everyday, lose 5 kg by exercising daily, write 2 pages of the chronicles daily, find suitable mentors, trade stocks everyday etc.) that I promised to do when I have the opportunity and time. Unfortunately, all have been unsuccessful so far and yours truly has not been able to stay disciplined for more than 3 to 4 days at a stretch.

But I'm not going to give up. Am currently in Baroda napping next to Missus. Will start again on Monday and this time I swear to God I will prevail in my endeavours. I won't let bachelorhood redux go to waste.

  

The Baby Shower

Nidhi (Missus) & I are fabulous at managing and arranging one another. So we threw each other a baby shower. We Gujaratis call it 'Kholo Bharwanu' ('God Bharai' in Hindi and 'Filling the Lap' in English). 

I'm normally not one to throw a party or organise a get together. The Gujarati inside of me would rather save the money and put it to good use when the little one is here. But Missus likes to dress up. So the argument was settled even before it started. 

Atman made the invitation, Missus & I went and got a dress for her, booked the venue, and invited everyone whom Mom, Missus, and I wanted to invite. 

 

Yours truly insisted on a minimalist motif. From the invitation to the venue decor to the food to the agenda. Did not take any gifts either.

It was fun. Maami put some rice and other stuff in Missus's lap and then took it back. Then she repeated the whole thing 15 more times. Atman gave Missus a backhanded slap. And I wanted to know why the f*** we were doing all of those things.

We then played a game of guess the songs where Atman & I played oldie tunes on our respective musical instruments (keyboard and flute). There were The Jungle Book and Duck Tales theme songs, Ek Mahal ho Sapano ka song, and a Hindi numbers including 'Jab koi baat bigad jaaye' and 'Ajeeb Daastan hai ye'. The second game was Dumb Charades. Here, yours truly was at his creative best weaving a twisted and obviously hilarious tale of our pregnancy with famous Hindi movie dialogues. (I could do a separate blog post on this game itself).

Father in Law and Grand mother spoke their minds and in the process took Missus's and my case with some fun banter. 

At the end of it there were balloons and chocolates and dinner and desserts and discussions and photos and Selfies.

Missus and I did a good job on the baby shower with some help from Atman. 

Atman winning the Slap Bet

   

Happy extended family

Yours Truly trying to be funny

Insensitive Pa

So yours truly went to watch Avengers with Atman, Mom, and the heavily pregnant Missus. As it turns out, there was another family of four - Mr., Mrs., young boy of around five, and a toddler in a pram.

This is when it happened. 

Atman pointed out that the movie is ruined because of the toddler in the pram who was almost certainly going to cry during the movie. 

I'm not sure why I did it, I let out a very loud 'This is not good' (more than enough for the family to have heard it) while giving them a look of disgust. (They ought to be more socially responsible than bringing a toddler to a movie hall). After all it's the Avengers !

I looked behind to find the disapproving Missus giving me the look. That's when it struck me that I'm going to be in the exact same position around 9 months from now when 'Batman vs. Superman' comes out.

I'm not sure what I will do when my time comes, but am really scared that I will have to reap the insensitivity that I've sown. 

May I be forgiven my indiscretions.    

What's in a Name

I have a firm belief that a name should be uncommon - unique if possible; mellifluous - easy on the tongue and ear; and have a meaning that one would want to be associated with the child when he/she grows up.

The friggin problem is that this triad does not have an intersection set. Atman, Samyak, Aarjav; we kind of ensured that intersection set kept getting smaller and smaller. And now, I can't find a good name (Nidhi, Meena, Siddhi, Khyati, Sonia, Preetesh, Jignesh, Amit etc are not acceptable names).

To compound my woes, I still have no clue if i'm going to be a father to a beautiful girl or to a handsome boy. So I have to search for two names.

This post is about my search for the illusive intersection set of the paradoxical triad.

The first thing to do is visit sites like babynames, babycenter, or aggregators like babypost best baby names sites and more such stuff at the end of which one will realize that the endeavour was as fruitful as the Congress campaign in the Delhi state elections.

So you start looking at Armenian names. And slowly it moves to Arabic, Aafrikans, Russian, Slavic, and Nordic names.You scavenge and scour the deep dark recesses of the internet but every time leave the damp, dim, dusty minefields with empty hands, a heavy heart, and the desperation of a cornered animal.

And so, in an act of ultimate surrender, you invoke the 'Bhramastra'. You turn to crowd sourcing and ask family and friends to help with names in the hope that one of them will hit the bulls eye. You beg, plead, borrow, bribe, do everything within your power to get them to help you.  

But you can't leave something as important as this to chance or hope or some body else. And as a result, you finally realise that there is no substitute to hard work and embark upon the ultimate brute force test of your life and use this resource (Beware: the link points to a 10,000 page 254 mb Sanskrit dictionary pdf document that yours truly has been poring through in search of that ever elusive perfect name).

In case someone has the perfect name please do comment, help, name your price, whatever.