Bus ride

Facepalm Facebook

Today I deactivated my facebook account. Facebook has been part of me for some years now, part of me I say as I have spent a substantial amount of time on it. That precious time I could have utilised elsewhere doing worthy stuff. Recently, I started following a blog www.becomingminimalist.com and that got me thinking.... we think somethings are unachievable untill we actually do it. Facebook addiction was one such thing that I wanted to give up but never reallly dared to take the plunge. I just happen to wonder, if ever, I was in real trouble and needed to call for help at 2:00 in the night, who would I call on my friendlist? Yes sure, 4 or 5 "friends" on my friendlist and they happen to be close family or close friends. They were with me, even before facebook was and will always be there for me, beyond facebook. Some of my close and dependable friends are not even on facebook!

I will not be able to see the funny posts, the informative posts but I do not really have to log into facebook to do that, honestly speaking. I am happy to not read posts people share that are politically correct but they themselves do not believe in, yet they share it anyway as it is the "in" thing to do, the inspirational quotes shared - if people had started following those quotes, the world would have been a much better place by now and I will not miss the candy crush invites!

The people who care will be in touch anyway through mails or phone calls and the people who do not care, will not care. But what I gain from not facebooking, is a sense of accomplishment for having overcome a silly addiction that the social media calls sustained engagement !

Back to square one!

Summer, couldn't have been a better time to land in Sweden, for the first time. I couldn't imagine that it got any worse in winter, even though everyone around, warned me. Soon, it was November and it was in-comprehendible to me, how could the same place wear such a gloomy and grey look. I shuddered in disappointment.

To make matters not so on my side, I was struggling with the language and a new country meant me going out of my way to find/make friends. All the above reasons lead me to explore countries, where the sun shone even in November! I did find such a far flung country. My excitement knew no bounds! Added to that, speaking English meant I didn't sound like an idiot, struggling to string together sentences that made any sense at all.

Maybe I was not in touch with my inner self as I wasn't even aware, I had let Sweden grow on me, imbibing the local values and culture and also getting better at the language (people seemed less perplexed when I spoke) while the plan for the move had taken over my life. Suddenly, the day came when I had to leave Sweden, I was sad beyond my expectation. I struggled to enthuse myself for the big move. It was a roller coaster ride from there on...

Ok, the sun did shine and I did sweat in November, yippie! But I missed the flat working structure in Sweden. The CEO's car being parked in the front most row, only the boss chomping on his sandwich and slurping on his fruit yoghurt, while the rest of us,lesser mortals, had to appear focussed on the mundane meeting agenda. The sun still shone, so I pretended to ignore (ONLY) the boss's breakfast at the meetings.

Sweden, with it's excellent public child care facilities, with a gender equality focus, has lead to more participation of women in the labour market and men playing an equal role in childrearing. Sweden's left wing politics has meant, above all, a lesser gap in the society, apart from national health service, unemployment benefits etc. The sun still shone and in November, but there were one too many things rattling on my mind....from childcare to kanelbulle, gender equality to fika, socialism Vs capitalism and it's effects to VAB, to name a few of the thoughts. I pictured my daughter growing up in a society, oblivious of the differences and respecting people as they are and not due to their social and economic status, sexual preferences and religious beliefs and most importantly, growing up in a gender - egalitarian country and took the plunge.

I signed a truce with myself "to bloom where planted" and returned to Sweden. The sun was no where in sight when I landed back in Sweden, and for a good 2 months. But it seemed less significant now.

PS - What I do miss is street food, authentic world cuisine and light hearted banter at bus stops, trains, stores and just about everywhere. Wishful thinking - Exchanging pleasantries wasn't considered hazardous!

A very inspiring piece of poem by my chirpy stary eyed 7 year old who wants to grow upto into a pop star. As a parent I can't stop grinning with pride :-)

Silver lining?

A silver lining on a cloud sounds great. But a silver line ( I would prefer to call it strand of grey) sprouting on my head, feels like I am only inches away from my grave. Ok, that was an overstatement. What I really want to state is that I'd do just fine without the glitter highlights!
I would like to beleive I am still far from the days when I have to dye my hair every fortnightly. And also hope the grey strands are not the harbinger of heart ailments and joint pains. Silver strands are not directly or indirectly proportional to the lard around the aorta. No nobel prizes for this discovery!
Getting back to the (grey) roots, they are not that many. So no distress calls yet but the depleting melanin at the hair roots which lead to greying, may not always be a byproduct of ageing. And who knows, maybe, flaunting grey will be the trend this fall!
And even if it is not, fitting in is not the trend anymore, standing out is...

Beautiful Mess

That's life. When we are young(yes, I was young too, some 200 years ago) we're quite critical about people and things around us, wondering why they are not as they ought to be. As they say - Everything that's good is expensive, illegal, fattening, gay or married to someone else!
As people age and sprout a strand or two of grey hair(not mandatory, ofcourse), get introduced to sagaciousness(not everyone), the eyebrows stop frowning at the drop of a hat. People just learn to accept life and it's ways. Everyday we meet braggadocios, megalomaniacs and people from far away planets, as they do not seem earthy but it seems less of a surprise when you've been on earth for quite a long time.
I have had no mid life crisis, seriously.Neither have I attained nirvana. Always knew life is a beautiful mess. It is what you make of it.
De-stress, not distress.
Get enlightened.
Make friends.
Cheat on your high protein diet.
Indulge in retail therapy - yes, happiness can be bought in apparel and shoe stores!
Ignore your pedantic colleague.
Greet your sneering neighbour.
Live, don't just exist!

Typically me

By jotting down things typical to me, I run the risk of exposing my faux pas far and wide but what the heck! Does anyone in the big big world love to splurge and yet cringe on facing the bank account state(ment)? Comm'n world tell me I am not alone. When on a spending spree, I try to convince myself, there's no tomorrow and I should live in the present but lo and behold, life does not seem to end after the money in my account ceases to exist. Does anyone have a tug of war with their conscience for petty issues like hogging an ice cream? I can see you smiling and owning up(in your mind, ofcourse). Ever since I remember eating, I have known guilt. But even before my guilt gets to my conscience, the ice cream has broken down into adipose tissue and become a permanent fixture on my waistline at lightning speed. Does anyone, after a day of (comparatively)less carbohydrates expect miracles? I do. I try my old jeans and much to my dismay, do not fit in. Life is not fair why should a pair of jeans be any different? Now, I do not want to spill all the beans about me and let the enigma surrounding my personality wane but I definitely gotcha chuckling and thinking...

What is it?

Appearances have become paramount in todays uber stylish world. Or may be it always was this way. Look around, there are hardly men sans pumped up biceps, wash board abs or women, not flashing perfectly coiffered hair, manicured nails, dressed to perfection.

While I do admire people who take the pain to look perfect or maybe they were born with looks and went with the flow. No big deal! However, I must say it's quite commodius, experiencing divine comfort in flip flops, sneakers, jeans & baggy t shirts that do wonders,hiding the curves(over the years the curves have aquired softer contours and some of the curves even have a cute and mushy nomenclature - love handles!).

The male and female roles have become more defined, these days. It begins right in the childhood, blue identifying boyish stuff while everything pink is demure, docile and girlish and it continues into adulthood. People like me (no I dont feel like being trapped in the wrong body, happy to be a woman), for whom colour or style doesnt matter, it's all about comfort, are met with weird looks and boy, does it want me to change? No.

Let's consider a person with the following characteristics:

Clothing - Jeans t-shirt sneakers
Gait - horse like
Interests - hayabusa, rugby, baseball
Culinary skill - some incidents of people puking, once the food descended their food pipe(could be they all had faulty digestive systems)!
Mannerisms - anything but coy.

Doesn't sound like the epitome of womanhood? No, but she is a woman just the way she is, juggling life, with brain power (& some manpower, lacking the finesse of manicured hands).

Reminds me of Lord Byron's poem:

SHE walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies,
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meets in her aspect and her eyes;

So, what is it that SUVs personify - strength and security. OK ok Mercedes is all about style and class but...go figure.

Life!

The word life has a different meaning for everyone.

For me life means the moment I am in currently & I would like to live it to the hilt. Hilt in this case is family, friends and hullaballoo.
Without the above three, I go into a nirvana mode, delving into the nature of reality, examining the nature of reality, including the relationship between mind and matter, substance and attribute, fact and value :-)

Ofcourse it is fun to travel the road less treaded, it is wise to enrich life with experiences but not without family, friends & hullaballoo!

Even paradise sans family & friends is as good as zilch.Which boils down to live life king size.

Senses..

If you close your eyes and think about a smell that means a lot to you...what comes to your mind?
Whatever it is, there must be a special reason why one smell comes alive so vividly. For me it is the smell of "shiuli" flowers or night flowering Jasmine. The smell is so fresh in my memory..the month of October meant Durga puja & the jasmine flowers, in the garden, like stars on the ground, were a harbinger of festivities.

The smell of rain drops on sun parched earth...so earthy!

Certain smells linger in my mind because they meant so much to me and I still yearn for them.

The smell of "khichudi" with dollops of ghee on a rainy day WOW!It is special not beacuse of the food itself but because it was a family time, relishing "khichudi" with my parents & sister.
For that matter, I could tell the clinking of my Mom's bangles, even if she was not within sight.
The smell of my dad's aftershave... I could go on & on....

Battle of the bulge

I am horizontally challenged. Period.

All the body shapes -apple ,pear, cone, hour glass(ofcourse not) do not apply to me. I am stretched in both directions from cheeks to calf. But the irony is I have been on a diet since I have had a memory. No I am exagerating but you can assume I have been on a diet since a long long time. You name it I have done it - cabbage soup diet, GM diet, No carb diet, low sodium diet, high protein diet, potato only diet.

What then goes wrong? Some loose weight to get healthier, some to look thin, some to get into their old pair of jeans but I try to shed the kilos to go on a binge and in the process gain the lost weight! When all else failed, I brazen facedly flaunted what I had - strutting my spare tyre. I concluded, from the looks around, I didn't have a figure to die for.

In order to justify my weight I have devised some brilliant excuses - I am a mom(moms are allowed the luxury of a paunch), slow metabolism(deteriorates with age), cold country ( have you noticed butter melting in hot conditions but turning rock solid in the freezer), busy life and no time to exercise and ofcourse genes!!!

I know I need more than prayers to shrink my size. Beleive me, I am trying but the post dinner desert glues itself to my waist, for no fault of mine :D

The true meaning

Ever wondered why people talk just for the sake of talking? I have and am still wondering.
Like when someone asks "does your daughter go to a school?", I barely stop myself from retorting "No I have forced her into child labour". When aqcuaintences who havent bothered to call on you, mistakenly bump into you, suddenly very concerned, accuse you of hibernating "where have you been","well, to London to visit the queen". It's funny and you need to brush off (in your mind!)any verdict passed about you being callous.

I am (ONLY)socially, too good to mouth my inner feelings so all I do is acquiesce and marvel at the foolhardiness with which some people leave you speechless with their act(literally)!

Homeless

Yes, that's what I feel now. I do have a roof over my head but it's the inner quest to feel at home in a place away from home. There were days when I missed India so much, I was going about day to day life with discontent and yearning to get back home, to belong, to conform....
I had two choices- to crib, harp, feel miserable or adapt. I chose the second option, a truce with the turmoil within, or so I thought.
I took a trip back home, only to realise I was still not at home, in my own home. I had changed, everything else was, as it was. I was lost and felt homeless. I did enjoy my moments back home but things which had never bothered me earlier, came to surface and I didn't dare to get vocal for fear of being called snobbish.

I am more at peace today, to the point of being stoic. Memories of "good old days" are ensconced deep within, like having loved and lost. It was another time , another world still very vividly alive within me but I do not delve into it. I am living my dream of dwelling abroad..and wishing I had never dreamt so.

Princess of the palace

As a kid I remember playing a game wherein we had to sing princess of the palace lost her shoe. It never made an impact on my mind, never thought of myself as a princess of any sort. But these days when I see the commodification of princesses or rather the disney princesses, I am concerened about the ramifications, being a mother of a girl.
My four year old girl is swallowed into the princess world, hook, line and sinker. In these times when we talk about women shouldering equal responsibilities as men in every aspect of life, how can I let my daughter grow up believing life is but a fairy tale, all she has to ever do is dress up & wait for some handsome prince charming! All my attempts to infuse some sanity into the pristine mind of hers' is in vain. She is under the impression that once she grows up , some prince will woo her off her feet & they can live happily ever after. We have had to shelve away her jeans and trousers and anything remotely bearing a masculine hint. The predominant colour is pink and bed linnen to glass everything has a princess imprint. Thanks to the hoopla surrounding disney princesses,my tiny tot believes muscles are for men and she is conscious about her look, hair style et al at this tender age.
I wish the Swedish fictional character Pippi Longstocking was a role model to young girls. Pippi is assertive, brave and can lift a horse with one hand! I feel, she is someone young girls should emulate and not the princesses clad in beautiful clothes and rendered useless otherwise. In a way this sows the seed in the mind of a young girl that girls are meant to be pretty, kissed, danced with and married off, which is so contradictory to today's woman.
I sincerely hope this is just a passing phase and my girl will come out of it unscathed, believing there's more to life than mere looks and princes.

A gastronomical journey...

Ideally one should eat to live but reverse is true for me and it shows on my waist line.I am grateful to my Ma and Baba, I still appear slim to their myopic eyes.Food is often on my mind and I try to recreate magic of the past(in food matters).One such magical comfort food that comes to my mind distinctly is Khichudi(with a dollop of ghee) with hot alu bhaja or begun bhaja or potol bhaja.Khichudi was synonymous with rain, during my childhood.If it was raining, then we had hot khichudi with deep fried vegetables.But it never tastes the same...as it did once upon a time.
Durga Puja meant luchi and alur dom and bonde for breakfast.Lunch was again a spread of pulao, cholar dal, tomato chatney,chanar dalna,kaanch kolar chop, chaler payesh etc. etc....havent had so many varieties of food at one go, since ages.Anything festive in a bengali household would mean consuming mishti doi..it surely is a piece of heaven.I have some how perfected the art of making mishti doi and hence dont miss it, no matter where I am and also got my daughter hooked to this very bengali delicacy.
I distinctly remember a puja at one of our relative's home,sometime in the month of November and waited for it all year round as the Natai Chondi pujo meant pati shapta,narkoler pithe, puli pithe among other dishes.Janmashtami meant gokul pithe.Winters meant lots of notun gurer payesh and i just can't get over the aroma of it.
The Sunday breakfast, lunch and dinners were something to look forward to.Breakfast would consist of kochuri or singada or dosa but soon I'd be famished, on hearing the pressure cooker whistle to emanate the aroma of kosha mangsho...aahhhh....mutton with potatoes and loads of oily gravy on steamed rice, nothing like it on planet earth.I craved and dreamt about kumdo fuler bhaja, during my pregnancy as dear hubby scoured many parts of Mumbai but all efforts were futile.I did more than make up for it on my next visit home.Food needs no reason-pregnant or not, binge.
The every day food that we had at home, now seem rare treats, courtesy lethargy,my impaired culinary skills,unavailability of raw materials and my yo-yo calorie consciousness.Food, now is more of improvisation of things available, thinly lined with home grown tastes.Ma's day to day recipes are to be tried, tasted(often disastrous versions of the original) on weekends.I have picked up new recipes, tried and liked new dishes but always yearn for the very ordinary yet delectable diet of a quintessential bengali.

A ray of light...

Last night when i was nearly dozing off to sleep, my 3 year old daughter fanned my face with her story book...a distinct sense of deja vu prevailed and my mind slipped down the memory lane into the bylanes of my childhood.The summer evenings coupled with power cuts or load shedding as they are known wasn't as murkier as they ought to be.
I remember Ma, kaki(my aunt) finishing off with cooking dinner and getting ready with bhajabhuji and mudi to be munched on during the power cuts, on the terrace.The cool breeze on the terrace did bring some respite but what was really apealling was the munchies and being a part of the gossip that my Ma and kaki had about their work places, about their in-laws(most interesting!!!), their friends, grand mothers, price of vegetables and weaving matrimonial alliances between children of their aqcuaintences.Some evenings, I was spending this "power cut" time with my Baba's camp-Baba and kakus(uncles).Their agenda for discussion was entirely different-Mohan bagan, East Bengal, European soccer,Kapil Dev, Gavaskar and the futility of all political parties(somethings never change!).
I actually looked forward to the power cuts because they meant a one and half to two hour hiatus from studies.Well, I could study with light from battery operated lamps or lanterns but i did not on the pretext that it hurt my eyes and my Ma gave in.As the power would be back, everyone got back to their mundane tasks of late evening, primarily watching TV and us kids had to get back to studies.If I still lingered on the terrace Ma would go ballistic about how I was wasting time, what would become of me, admonish that kids from middle class bengali families have only one route to rise in the rung than their predecessors-study!
The candescent memories of power cuts are cocooned in my heart and maybe my kid grows up to think that I belong to the dark ages, cherishing memories of power cuts!!!Never mind...

Still single?!!

It is a question that plagues S big time.S is any girl next door, hails from a middle class family, educated, working, on the wrong side of 20, horizontally challenged(read fat) and is waiting for love or marraige(whichever is earliest) to happen.Meanwhile S's parents are busy bribing the Gods(of various religious sects) and running from one astrologer to another...just one wish-getting S married and peace shall prevail on earth.
S seems to have a perfect mellange of the criteria required in matrimonial ads (fair,slim,beautiful,educated and from good family)except the slim factor.This alone is a mamoth problem.S being the youngest in the family, pampered to the hilt, has never touched base with reality.S, like Alice in wonderland, is under the impression that prince charming shall woo her off her feet as he is going to overlook the outer appearance.He should connect with the soul.But alas, that does not fit into the arranged marraige scenario, prince charming will never get a chance to connect to the soul as he decides the fate of poor women after having a dekko at a lifeless pice of paper called photograph.Why is it so....is a different issue and lets not get into that.
Ideally in a scenario like this S should get moving, pump iron and loose those extra kilos but S is so diligently lethargic, nothing gets her motivated not even the fact that time is running out and she could step into 30s and still be a single.What a sin!S blissfully, beleives that she is always right and so pays no heed to the advice of her well wishers.If only, she was right and prince charming does come knocking at her door, oblivious of her girth.S does go on crash diets only to come crashing (with a vengeance) on samosa, chat, chole bhature, biryani , rasgulla and food of similar ilk.
S is (in)famous for her mood swings and at times decides to remain a spinster because she is not convinced how looks come into a marraige and why should she suck up to some guy.True but this is how it is!S has been living in a big city and getting acquainted to the corporate world, not wanting to lag behind in the rat race, splurges money on wardrobe and accessories.In abysmally low situations(Zero bank balance)as this, S makes up her mind to do what it needs to get a husband.
While S blows hot and cold over whether to be married or not and zeroes in on her reason to get married, I hope and pray she does find the love of her life.God(who, I guess, is a man,has inflicted all misery on women) should take notice of her plight!!

Tangent!

The name of the post has nothing to do with geometry or trigonometry.It's about some weird people I have crossed paths with and there was never a common ground that connected us.I found them so fascinating,anyways,they are firmly etched on my mind like the stone sculptures of yore.Memory is defined as the persistent effect of an emotion experienced in the past and if the experience was funny....I let it linger on my mind.Let's get into the act....

#Character1-She was paranoid of gaining weight.And this had affected her to such an extent that every time there was food within her sight, she broke it down to the minutest level.Like the ingredients at the back of a package.Or maybe even more..to the atomic level.I believe, it was not a conscious effort but something automatised due to constant repetition.If she caught me having a grape she would specify the glucose and fructose content in it and what effects would it have on me...there's more...whether the kidney would process the glucose or it would be stored as adipose tissue making my circumference grow by leaps and bounds.She inspired dread in me(in her presence ONLY) for food.If a grape was so guilty in the accretion of my waistline..imagine what a jalebi did-I gobbled it before she could react!I, being a complete foodie and fighting the battle of the bulge...I do remember her words, when I cant button my jeans!

#Character2-She was always dolled up like a character out of Ekta Kapoor's serial-coiffured hair, a curl in place, captivating(due to innovation,everytime) bindi, red hot lipstick(seemed as though one prick & her lips would bleed),sparkling bangles and gaudy sarees.Of course she looked ravishing(if you turned a blind eye to her weight, i.e.)!She is an absolute darling, very endearing.But her idiosyncrasies are outlandish.Her interest in her neighbours, her knowledge about all their possessions(ranging from their car\flat\furniture to their sandals), relationships, maids and bills was commendable.Whenever i visited her(not often), I was made privy to classified information about friends, neighbours and strangers.She was like "sansani" from aaj tak news channel!

#Character3-A minor irritant...She was one lady who was so charmed by me(atleast it felt good to believe so)she had to plagiarize my sense of clothing,hairstyle,career aspirations,hobbies and what not.There were times when we were dressed in exactly the same t-shirt, jeans, shoes,bag and hair style, too.Like identical twins(Sita aur Gita), we could never get lost in Kumbh Mela.The similarity in every aspect was uncanny and visible to every one else, not involved.Our kids have names that rhyme- a lifelong reminder that I influenced someone, so much.

#Character4- This person is interesting to a fault.She is intelligence, knowledge,tradition,modernity,spiritualism personified....& I'm just kidding!She impersonates to be at the zenith of everything that is percieved to be good and respectable.I kind of know her reaction to every situation but still i verify...& BINGO!A true epitome of flatulence and paradigm of gasconade.

The above people were not the only one of their kind.They are just specimen copies and everyone comes accross multiple clones of them.They spice up our lives and are fodder for a hearty laughter.More such dissections of characters will be continued...

A Birthday party!

This piece of literatur bears no resemblance to any person living or dead...but events & happenings are not fictitious.

Venue: Home or Mac D's or a restaurant or terrace

Centre of attraction: Birthday kid? Naaaaah...it's the mother and most of the other female guests!

Why: Look at their recession defying attire. loaded with gold and zardozi saris and layers of make up.

I empathise with the guys and completely understand why they look so lost. The wives' sartorial exuberance has burnt a gaping hole in their wallets and after every such birthday party the hole gets bigger as there will be comparisions drawn about what Mrs Sharma has and what Mrs Verma lacks and the best has to be owned, to be flaunted at the next such get together.
Aah the kids...they are blissfully unaware of the undercurrents till one kid starts a nursery rhyme all the rest of the poor kids are prompted to join in or maybe lead. Kids are bribed too..if he\she can recite so and so rhyme then he'll be lucky enough to visit Mac D the following weekend.Kids are kids and some don't fall prey to such bribes, they are taken care of after getting home(spanked for having ruined the parent's reputation).
Just when you are engrossed in the kids play (I can't find where else to rest my eyes..not able to withstand all the glitter from the gold) you could hear a female falseto alarm....move closer and eveasdrop....sounds like unnecessary bantering to the point of worthlessness. All members are alert and it's like the swiss knife syndrome-armed with as many tools (examples in this case) for maximum number of undefined situations. One member starts talking about her relatives abroad and the rest pitch in -they have several more kith and kin, abroad. No matter what, everyone else has also been there and done that, usually in a much bigger way. The men are enjoying the boniferous party, discussing work, shares, politics and everything that's important under sun. They are men...god's gift to (Wo)mankind.
I always wanted to run away from the spot because I couldn't fit in with the women-naah I'm too snobbish to break ice with them, the men....naah-it is not considered good to bond with the opposite gender, the kids...yes maybe but not to the point they are climbing all over me. But, now when i think in retrospect, it was a lot of fun..just be a silent spectator to all the drama around and enjoy! Looking forward to many such birth day parties....hope i get invited, though.

Dil hai chota sa..

I am so intrigued by my little one..she makes me think about things I have never given a second thought.Some days back we watched the movie "Juno" where the female lead is pregnant and A had a barrage of questions, some interesting ones were like did you have toys in your tummy, if not what did i do all the time and if there were food stores in my tummy..where did she get her supply of food from??Another night when she went to bed she wondered why doesn't her teddy close its eyes while sleeping..i had to explain it doesnt have eyelids.There are more scientific questions like why does it rain why does it get dark when it's night why does it get brighter during day?She doesnt always buy my story...sometimes i like it..because i'm apalled by her inquisitiveness but not when she's driving me up the wall.She is one person who has taught me to be patient....because of the obvious reason that I can't reason with her!

Why do clouds move along with her?She came home hitting her friend and when asked why did she do so..well, she felt like.yes how audacious!I asked her how would she feel if someone hit her...she kept wondering and asked how would she feel, not good and she beleived me(I thought so, atleast).There have been no further hitting cases.

My little Michelangelo has been an art lover..yes it shows on the walls.& Now she has started with MS paint.Sometimes, it looks to me like a briliant piece of art, bears a distant resemblance to a caterpillar or ballon or dog.Proud Momma!I am happy and proud in my illusions, what so ever.

I have it firmly ensconced in my mind that she needs her space to grow just like a plant, I as a mother can provide her with sunlight, water and oxygen(does it sound like out of a science book?there's more..) she can produce as much cholorphyl(!!!!) as she wishes to.But i guess, kids are like swamp they absorb everything....just let them be, like the ad-aaj khelne do.Pressurising or living the parents dream throught them is killing for the child's individuality.I can see my 3 year old has her own personality(it'll change over the years) and she is clear about her preferences(which drive me crazy READ LUNATIC)-be it clothes or food.But there has to be a balance between her preferences and mine!It does feel good to have someone to boss over and not be bitched behind.She has started rebelling..she asks why should she listen to me, what would happen if she didn't, why does Mamma make the rules???No wonder she has taught me patience..

The views and ideas expressed above are solely mine and I'm no expert on parenting!