Mom, I like not the Green but, the “Yellow Capsicum”

It was just another regular day when my maid had just finished her cooking mandate and had left the kitchen the way I want it to be. I entered with ten thoughts running through the lanes of my overused mind. In there was one wired red flag alerting me to give breakfast to my six-year old who had been trying to enjoy his one-month long vacation.

Peeping into the drawing room, I found him doing his typical couch potato act. I sighed and pulled out one of his square shaped purple colored plate. Placing two chapattis & some aaloo- shimla mirch sabji on the side I gave it an unsatisfied gaze. In just another trail blazer second, I had ideated on to also place two blobs of amul butter on top of the chapattis. Now, I said to myself, it looks un-resistible! I smirked at my “bribe-enriched breakfast” which will make my smarty pants have a “no talk” but, “just food” time for the next twenty minutes.

With my good-at-it mother poise, I left to deliver my winning platter to the little tummy which had waited with patience for what it was going to see now.  Bringing the stool near the couch, I kept the pate on it and turned back, happy on marking off the “give breakfast red flag” up there.

Entering the kitchen again, I was just about to make that “start- your- day- at- work coffee” when I thought I had heard myself being called. Ignoring my “instant on-call mom mind”, I got into switching on the microwave to heat up the coffee. There again, as the plate disk rotated to warm up my indigo cup, my ears twitched again. It was crystal, I was being called “Mom”. Stopping the microwave mid-way I stepped into the drawing room with high hopes of being asked for a glass of water.

There under the bright lit roof I could see him sulking looking at the plate. Three little questions instantly popped up there. One, are the chapattis too dry? Two, Is the subji too spicy for him? Three, has he spilled the food on the floor? (He has this habit of feeling guilty about it).

Under the influence of these three contexts, I asked him “what is it?”

There it came and shattered my good-at-it mother poise with all its might. Brooding still at the plate, he said “Mom, I like not the Green but, the “Yellow Capsicum”.

I quietly picked up the plate, dropped all the green capsicum back into the pan and handed over the plate again with not a word to utter.

A little later, and that is today did I come to terms with the choice of a six year old. I just googled about what is so special about a yellow capsicum? And here is what I found.

Yellow Capsicums ~ more mature than green capsicums, yellow capsicums have a fruity taste yet milder than their orange or red counterparts. Yellow varieties taste fantastic grilled and add fantastic colour to stir-fries. 

That does sound like my smarty pants. I am tickled as I end my post! 

Ref: http://www.harrisfarm.com.au/blogs/guides/15819812-know-your-capsicums

RUN OFF THE MORALITY ~ Inspired from lifestyles of working couples

Talking about the withering behaviours of our times, sincerity rakes up the world around us. It seems to have climbed up the charter of being one of the uncool traits to hold on too. It’s been stamped with a lacklustre traditional outlook which is too sluggish for today’s world to follow up with. Consider looking around, and listen to the conversations blaking out from small friendly hubs right from even out of the age group of 10-year olds. I will not be surprised to see that cringe on your face. The “Trolley problem” rules our world like never before. Part of a thought experiment in ethics, the trolley problem studies our moral and sincere responses to major decisions in times of uncertainties like accidents, saving life, killing someone for reasons of bigger quantity and quality. However, I think the trolley problem has escaped its density to find momentum even in minor decisions of our everyday life. Here is why I say so…………

A very typical example comes from our daily routine cycle ………It’s peak hour! Stuck in the monsoon traffic, the honking blows away what’s left of your sanity after work. The phone cranks up, and you find out that your boss still has his daily planner run into the next day. And all he could do to befriend his anxiousness is call you. As you talk to him hands free, there is a missed call from your wife’s office number. Of course by now you must have ascertained that you have to take the next right turn to pick her up. Hang on, you’re in for more ambiguities today. There is another incoming number flashing on your screen, now this one’s exciting, it’s “unknown”, and you tell your boss I have to take my other call, catch you tomorrow. You pick this unfamiliar call and you find a recognizable undertone on the other side. Your friend quips on his new number and says he needs you immediately for a presentation he has to give tomorrow. You are almost nearing the right turn, and suddenly there is a smash of glasses. It’s a bike against a mini caravan. Since it’s a wide road, the traffic gets cleared soon and you pass the accident site until to find a man and a woman in a bad state. There are a hundred co-drivers behind you and on the side-lines. Now, let’s ask ourselves some trolley questions, how many of us will make this quick decision of doing the needful? Or are we confused what’s supposed to be done in the first place?

Here is another one, from a very common setting of a 5-year old marriage. The regular ways of shuffling between work and home zones takes much of your time. All you want is to live life to the fullest in between these tiring strokes of fate. You both have maintained your individual relationships with your friends of yesteryears. Beaming up openly with your partner about your feelings for anyone is a thing of cliché these days. More the comfort level, if one of you or both have been in relationships before and had come-in into this marriage with much maturity around the rise and fall of relationships.  We all think the same way, out-looking life to have this unique way of reinstating our faith in re-living what was undone and with this belief you do start finding your unexplored feeling for an old friend and find its intriguing response from the other side too. Is it wrong at this point is a very straight-forward question but, above that is your comfort level in accepting that feeling in yourself and then taking a decision of shifting the message right through the beamer and then sharing that with your partner too. Are you ready for this yourself? Or are you finally going to shift the blame and say that you are a creation of circumstances??

Going forward to the next story, this one hit me the hardest. I had an early morning train to catch to Surat that Monday morning from Bandra terminus...I had just had one of the ugliest worded fight with my husband over of course his deliberate ignorance on his mother's insensitive attitude towards me. I already was a pinch away from losing my cool with any tiniest inclination of unintended obscurity. Entering the station I straight headed towards the rest room. Already, there was a queue at 5:30 in the morning. A Muslim woman in her burqa with her little daughter joined me to wait for her turn on the side queue. As she entered she gave me this little understanding glance for keeping an eye on her little one. However, my turn came up instantly and I went in. Now what began from there is what forms the troll here in all senses and angles. When I came out, and this was a quickie, these three men who were sitting outside had opportunely found this never explained shame of calling this little girl near them and where having fun giving her goose bumps. This little naïve angel was almost shivering. One of the heaviest among them had the audacity to even pull her by hand to make her sit on his lap. All this while I kept staring at them with no offence treatment from their side towards me. I was aware of the time and place we stood at and took the instant decision of making it clear but stated feebly, “can’t you see, she is not comfortable, just leave her!” and then I took her aside. I still don’t know why I didn’t scream at them? Why didn’t I scream on their faces? Was it a self-protection mechanism or the overall wellbeing of all three of us? These men asked me, “Are you going to pay for them? Why are you so concerned? You just leave and go and we will take care of her”. I again in my most composed voice replied, her mother has asked me to care for her. Let her come and I will leave. The very moment her mother opened the door. I returned the same glance of understanding back and moved with a background score of all those three men laughing out loud.

Think about it! Trolley up…to your own emotional intelligence!!

Reference: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trolley_problem

The Art of Drying & Folding Laundry ~ An Attitude

A Facebook post by a friend of mine read “The job of a stay-at-home mother is that of building blocks or connecting households....”

My instant reaction to it was “Pls elaborate.. the job of all women.. Encompassing.. working, non working, stay at home, part timers, and many more is important n crucial.. I feel..”

The reply came in saying “Arey yaar Maine kab kaha stay at home mothers have imp job! Hehehe .. buildings blocks thode na imp kaam hai 😀 😉.. I was referring to the piling of clothes and vessels! Ek hatao.. everything comes toppling down  😂 😂 ek dum building blocks ki tarah”

As a continuation of the same thread she responded “Well .. on a serious note.. I know the skills that a working mother has and how she has to multi task.. I have seen my mom doing it till about 4 yrs back! What I do is nothing compared to what she has done all these years!! Hats off to all the working moms!! Full time ho ya part time!”

I responded back again “I understood what u meant.. but never compared it to utensil n cloth piles..lol... but I got the elaboration..hehehe.. it’s hilarious... but infact.. . but I still feel..stay at home moms have bigger roles to play and longer schedules...I have even seen men in my household do it... . even cloth drying n folding is an art.. you should see my dad do it..  :*..”

Further I adding “I love every woman.. around me.. in some way or another.. they are pulling mankind to another state of being”

She reverted saying “Good to know that there is someone who admires the way we fold or dry clothes and considers it an art!  😘”

I answered, saying “infact u gave me an idea to write a piece for my blog  :*”

And so my dearest readers, this post belongs to us. Men, Women and all alike.

My friend here is glad to know that I admire the way stay-at-home moms dry up clothes and then fold them and also consider it an art! Initially, there was a difference in thought here. She did feel that I think that working mothers have a bigger balance to make than stay-at-home moms. The truth for ME is NO! I don’t think working mothers are more skilled and neither do I look down upon them, I being one myself. Neither, do I think that only mothers are stay-at-home. And not the last at all, I do think Drying & Folding Laundry is an Art!

When and why did we start considering something colorful or visually aesthetic as a work of art?  I think “Art is an attitude!”. And more than my very organized and work-life balancing mom it was my stay-at-home dad (once he took his VRS at 50) who taught me how to push art into the mundane of everyday life. Had he not, I do not think I would have enjoyed my overextended marriage-maternity break or got to love my household work the way I do today. The root of the problem is that we do not value our own doings, our daily life. Our rating to ourselves is so low on to what is considered everyday routine, household chores or the mundane life. Everything out there seems glittering with questions like what are you doing today which is so different from what other people are up to? And tons of other similar questions. The problem created here is of our own making. We are bullying ourselves into a very conscious being. Treading on what’s expected of you by the traditional society is not something of the past but, also of the modernistic future we live today. Just the criteria has changed.

Thanks to my Stay-at-home dad who taught me how to space the clothes while drying them up, why should the clothes be turned inside out for a quick dry, which clothes to dry on the rack and which on the cloth liner, which ones to put in the shade, how to clip them, which ones to be put in the hanger, which fold-alignment does not crumble or crease the clothes, how many folds make for a compact pile up.

I found his days very therapeutic at home doing this routine. There has always been peace in what he has been doing. He has never been forced to do these things. He loves to do it.

It just has forever got me to knuckle up in my mind that when did society came to its decision on gender and division of chores.

An advertisement I saw a year back came to my mind.

Must watch - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wJukf4ifuKs

Is it asking for so much from the genders that exist? Why divide chores or careers? Why divide life? Why not share? Why not experiment?

I wrote a post a few years back on non-duality of gender called “The age of Turbulence – Brief insights into our own Indian Marriage”. Where the masculine and feminine co-exit. The energy is maximum there. There is where we understand the true meaning of the art of living and reigning.

Do read - http://kapithra.blogspot.in/2012/03/age-of-turbulence-brief-insights-into.html

As the change occurs, I believe that with each ticking second it is scores of stay-at-home moms and some numbers of stay-at-home dads are the ones who are actually working on building blocks or connecting households.

Home is art and we need people who enrich it because art thrives not in measured cubicles but, in a free state of mind and space!