Monishikha's Blog

At the stroke of midnight

monishikha — Tue, 31 Aug 2010 16:08:00 +0000

I had painted this, a few months ago, for my mom, who seems to think that I’d like nothing better than to sit and paint glass(maybe she’s right).

The picture was taken before it was framed, hence the bland white thermocol background. The folks are due in a few days, so things like this will (hopefully) be made on demand , while the kid is babysat by grand folks.

Not quite a flower vase

monishikha — Wed, 25 Aug 2010 08:55:00 +0000

I follow a few painting blogs, and some time back , got bitten by the watercolour painting bug. So last week, I just decided to let Artim do what he wants, and let the maid deal with him, while I scratched my itch. Here’s what came of my interruption filled two hours with watercolours and a few leaves in a flower vase.

I know I have a long way to go, but I just loved the satisfaction that I got from indulging myself . The best part of course was showing the hubby that I could actually “leave the kid to his own devices and clean up later”, once in a while. Actually, more than that, because that’s exactly what I am doing now while he watches the gardener do his thing, with his nose (and hopefully not his tongue) pressed against the screen door. Of course he would like nothing better than to assist the gardner…

The Arti ONE

monishikha — Thu, 15 Jul 2010 03:55:00 +0000

Some moments seem endless,and yet a year later, I can scarcely remember the discomfort of the restless nights, the hospital stay , the pre-op room … When I looked at the clock then, every minute, wondering , praying , hoping to come out of it with some of my old self back, little did I know, that a year later , I wouldn’t even care. All that I remember now is that first loud,lusty cry which made me smile and forget all about asking the long suffering anaesthetist for a blow by blow account of “What are they doing now?”. All that I see now is my precious sleeping bundle of joy a.k.a the little slave driver, who’ll wake up soon and drive us , his devoted slaves nuts, as he has for this last one year.

Happy Birthday Artim

May I have your kind attention please,

monishikha — Tue, 13 Jul 2010 08:49:00 +0000

My dear friends, readers (if any) , blogging friends and all combinations thereof,

How have you been? Sorry, for the long absence folks, things have been busy and Artim’s ma has been lazy-er than usual .Other than that I’ve been well , as well as one may deem sitting around and getting heavier by the day to be.

And now for the Artimator update,

-One tooth has made it’s mamma biting appearance.

-The house is yet to be baby proofed, so Artim has taken matters into his own hands

- The garden has been inspected and watered, for which service , the gardener may or may not be thankful.

-One set of grandparents are being visited , with a vengeance. The others are waiting for their turn.

And now her laziness, the Artimater’s mater is going back to her book/nap, catching up/storing up her strength for the 15th of July.

love,
Mini/MRC/Monishikha

PS: Piper and Shail, thanks for the tag, will be posting it soonish, as soonish I can think of what to say.

Leo

monishikha — Tue, 08 Jun 2010 10:25:00 +0000

The children came home from school to find a white ,furry bouncing ball of energy in the courtyard. He defied all attempts to be caught, and bounced ceaselessly up and down, nipping at stray fingers held out to catch him and cuddle him. He was just a foot tall, in all probability, the product of a one night stand. A half bred they called him, and gave him away to their friends when he began to eat his brothers and sisters out of home an hearth.

His indomitable spirit defied all attempts to educate him, and the only time he would sit still, one crooked ear quivering with eagerness, was when the cook put down his bowl of milk, and told him to “STAY”.He was not discriminating about his friends, all dogs big and small were challenged equally and he would come zipping down the lane , a few Dobermans and Alsatians snapping at his heels, wriggle his way through the wooden gate and immediately turn around and thank them for seeing him home and ask them to move on.

He didnt ask for much, apart from being fed and allowed to sleep on warm laps ,to chew on a few toes,hide a few ice cubes in the garden, shake a few cabbages to death and to be immediately let in the house after a few barks under the bedroom windows in the wee hours

of the night .

The days flew by, and the academic year was almost over . The children spent their days pretending to study , and the house was being packed up for moving soon after the exams. The father went ahead to his new posting and the rest of the family was soon to follow.

One night, as the mother finished her nightly phone call to the father, she realised something was amiss. Her toes felt soft and the usual pain from being gnawed on by sharp puppy teeth was missing. It was 11 pm, and the dog was missing ! He had failed to realise that with father away, no doors would be opened for him at unearthly hours. Well, since she couldnt abandon him to the chilly winter night, she decided to get him inside the house immediately.

So it was , that late one moonlit night ,a mother and her teenaged daughter stood in the shadow of a garage wall.They looked around at the empty fields behind the garage, hoping to see some sign of him.After a while they decided to call out his name again,

“LEO , LeeeeOOOO ,LeeeeOOOOO , Leo leo leo leo leeOOOOOO “

Ten minutes later, there was still no sign of Leo, and they were resigned to leaving him to his night on the tiles. Just as they decided to go back inside the house, the daughter felt something brush past her shins , heard a squealing noise and something white and soft hit the garage wall with a thud , rebounded at a tangent and disappeared inside the house at lightening speed.

After hurriedly checking each other for signs of physical damage, and finding none, the mother and daughter attributed the squealing to it’s rightful owner , one scared-out-of-his-non-existant-wits and completely inappropriately named half spitz half mongrel !

Sixteen years and a few (lost) dog fights later, Leo is still alive, and though not kicking,still barking at all dogs big and small through the gate,still dragging himself upstairs with his two working legs, in search of the chicken lunch that my mother sometimes takes to the bedroom in order to catch her favourite soap on television.

For now.

A letter to the Artimator

monishikha — Fri, 14 May 2010 19:35:00 +0000

Dear Artimator,

The other day, I was reading an old post on this blog (yes,there was a blue moon that night ) about you , and I realised that today at TEN months old, you’re almost all grown up! So while ~~you’re napping~~ as I try to rock you back to sleep/feed you/make my next word on scrabble/check on the maid/tickle you on demand/watch yet another episode of Frasier/answer the phone(thank you for your help drooly fingers),I would request you to take some time out from dealing with that newspaper and give some consideration to the following points…..

-Now that you’re ~~drunkenly lurching 1,2,3…4 falling and getting up bum first to do it all over again~~ walking, noisily claiming food from everyone else’s plate, how about laying off shoe laces and slippers , licking walls and anything new within reach?

-Mamma’s world revolves around you, and if you take a nap longer than 10 mins on surfaces other than her , it will STILL revolve around you. And your seek-mamma-raise-alarm-if-not-in-reach-out-and-hang-on-to-range could do with a break too, specially at night.

- Swallowing two spoonfuls of water does NOT automatically convert spoon to toy. Not even if you distract the folks with giggles while you snatch it out of their hands .

- Waving bye ONLY to the one-who-drives-mamma-nuts-with-her-distaste-for-taking-directions and absolutely no one else is so NOT fair.

-Could you please oblige the duck with some offerings other than the liquid kind. Mamma would like to report to the grandfolks that the “Potty has actually depreciated in value..FINALLY” .

-Sometimes we actually ARE sneezing loudly, sometimes the bedcover DOES need to be dusted repeatedly with loud thwacks….what was all that giggling for ?Wait a minute , I think I see some dirt on the bed…

- If you could sleep through watching Baba and his friends taxi off in their aircraft, then pray tell why does the mixie upset you so?

- High chairs and prams are meant for sitting in ,and if you really want to explore those straps,there’s no need to turn around and stand up. Your folks will gladly bring all the straps around to meet in that buckle that goes over your belly.

- See mamma’s saying “NO” doesnt mean that you have to shake your head , smile and carry on eating that book or pulling that curtain or eating that shoelace. And she’ll fall for that crying everytime, IF you could just keep a straight face or even produce a tear or not stop crying as soon as you get your way .Keeping your hand on your ear is a dead give away too.And no, the folks arn’t laughing , they just need to look at something in the other direction.

-All dangling things and mamma’s hair are not meant too be pulled and chewed.You can do that when we serve noodles, or if the hair is your own

-We are doing our best to learn the meaning of “Mamamamamama”, “Aenanananannnnnn”, “Aaaaeytaitaitai Aaaaeytaitaitai ” etc…so how about meeting us mid way and learning the meaning of “Wait, Im coming shona”.

- Keep trying, someday you might actually be able to grasp that water coming out of the garden pipe, or the bathroom tap. Or one of these days mamma might let you hold the mug while she gives you a bath.And while we are on the subject of baths, this is not the way to get maximum splashes

-Save the non stop rough housing, or “Jhinga Masti” (as your Baba so eloquently puts it )
for the grandparents .THEY have no need to take a break from you.

Actually if a certain person hadn’t caught them just in time, you’d have mysteriously disappeared this Sunday.

-Baba’s zillion wrist watches are fair game, mamma’s one and only is not.

-See that kid in the mirror, yes the one you’re grinning at ? He’s mamma’s sweetheart.

Monishikha Who?

monishikha — Fri, 30 Apr 2010 09:03:00 +0000

It had to happen sometime. I’m not unique anymore , or rather my name isn’t. Gone are the days when I could confidently open an email account , by just typing in my first name!Before the slightly slow reader rolls those eyes ,let me remind you MRC is an acronym . It’s true people know me by many names, and I have no problem with that , but the one name that I thought was unique is no longer so.

How do I know? Well folks, since Im posting SO regularly (all right all right, you can roll those eyes now), I decided to create a twitter account today. And guess what , there’s a Monishikha on twitter, and it’s NOT ME!

So, as soon as I can figure out what to do with that account on twitter,and if anyone’s interested, they can look out for boring updates like this one from “MonishikhaRC” .

The Old Mess

monishikha — Sat, 03 Apr 2010 14:53:00 +0000

Once in a blue moon, when I go for a walk, this is my favourite spot to walk past.Also known as the “Old Mess”, it is not quite that. It’s the preferred venue for many a b’day party and station parties(kids allowed) with a movie, tombola, chaat and dinner served on the breezy ,sloping lawns . All in all, a pleasant place to spend an evening, and the second of my fledgling attempts at watercolour paintings. The husband and other critics (related by blood) claim that while I have a way to go before I can actually sell stuff (if I wanted to), it’s worth hanging at home. As for me, Im just happy that the folks are visiting, so that I can do something totally unrelated to baby stuff. Speaking of which, the Artimator at 8 and a half months is STANDING ON HIS OWN for a grand total of half a second!

Random Number Seven

monishikha — Wed, 31 Mar 2010 08:00:00 +0000

A while ago, I got tagged by GM and Noor to do a post with seven random things about me.Sorry for being tardy folks, but real life intrudes at the most inconvenient times !Anyway in the spirit of “better late than never”, here are seven random things about me-

1.I LOVE most sweets, candies, chocolates etc. but have never been able to even approach cotton candy without feeling nauseous.

2.I enjoy swimming, have taught myself how to do it,but circumstances have been such that I haven’t been near a swimming pool in the last two years…sigh.

3.As a child, I used to think that old pictures were black and white because of a very simple reason, the WORLD was that way. Don’t ask me when colour seeped in.

4.I am not religious, maybe because very early in life , I heard my father say that “If God is everywhere, then he/she/it doesn’t need to be worshipped only in a particular place in a particular way”. Yet , I have no objection to accompanying my mother to a puja pandal , she does the idol worship, I do the gastronomic worship.

5.My musical tastes are pretty narrow, mostly western pop from the fifties to the eighties, with a smattering of the new stuff from my teens onwards.

6.I love reading,can’t stop till I finish the book BUT a week after I’ve finished it, if anyone asked me what I liked about the book, I wouldn’t be able to recall anything other than the general story!

7.I know a little about a lot of stuff. I am dangerous.

Now the rules for passing on the tag are

1) You have to tag 7 people.

2) You have to link their pages in your tag post

3) You have to leave a comment in their comments section telling them they’ve been tagged.

4) You have to say who tagged you.

Well for me, except for point no.1 , all the rest are possible. I just dont know that many bloggers well enough to tag them(Let this be a warning to lurkers on this blog, delurk and you run the risk of being tagged sometime). So I am going to tag as many as I can, which is why Shail, Piper,Tara, Trish, and Newmum, you’ve been tagged ,or retagged as the case may be.

When a little boy is imprisoned

monishikha — Wed, 17 Mar 2010 14:42:00 +0000

by a laundry folding mother

he just has to explore his options.