Do you have it in Red?

"Sir.... Sir?" she said pushing the pen towards him, "Will you take it?"

He looked at her and smiled.


He peered inside the Fiat 118ne window to look at the dashboard. He had a fight with his friend the other day that 118ne was faster than a Maruti 800. He stood on his tippy toes to see clearly what the speedometer said - Aha! 140 kmph! Much faster than the 120 on the Maruti speedometer. He was correct. He was all of 6 years... The life long love affair with cars had just begun.


Those were the 90s, the economy had just opened up and new things, for the first time for a lot of us, were now available. Liberalization brought with it shiny Hot wheels toy cars. These were small models of mostly American cars that could now be bought even at the local kirana store, well , at least few of them stocked up.

He was 7 years old and liked helping his mother with groceries. Every time he went to the store, he looked at the Hot wheels placed in a glass shelf which quite innocently came up to his eye level. That was the time when middle class parents only indulged their kids out on their birthdays, sometimes not even that. He knew his parents weren't rich, but every time he went to the store, there it was, a gleaming hot wheels right at his eye level. One day, he just went ahead and asked for it. His mother asked the man behind the counter for the price. 25 rupees.

"That is too expensive. Do you know how many Wibs bread would come for that money?"

They started walking, he started calculating. She was right. 5 loaves of Wibs Bread. That was too much bread for a 7 year old to handle. Not that their family was living hand to mouth. No. But he was being taught the cost of things, and what better way than Wibs Bread.

The next time they were at the grocery store, he threw a fit, a very rare tantrum, he really wanted that Hot wheels. His mother took him away kicking and screaming. He had seen tantrums work with his friends and their parents, she knew what he was trying and she knew that he had to know that it is not okay. Gave him the thrashing of his life once home.

And that was that.


It was the 90s version of a party. His parents were invited to a dinner and he tagged along. Unlike today, house parties actually had home cooked food. They were doctors, with two very well behaved sons, who even had a bunk bed. This is 1995. This is when Hum Aapke Hain Kaun was considered entertainment! They had their own room and a bunk bed. In 19-freaking-95.

Post dinner, as the men settled down to discuss politics and the women were busy exchanging recipes, the 3 boys, were sent to the kids room.

The room was painted blue and the curtains matched the paint. The bedsheets matched as well. In a corner a basket ball was placed and they had a season ball (the kind Tendulkar plays matches with!). The room was spotless. It looked like a girl had made a room for boys.

His parents werent poor by any stretch of imagination, sure they werent doctors, but they had decent jobs. They both worked for the government. Father for LIC and mother for a bank. Government bank, of course.

"What do you want to play?" The elder one asked.
Surely, they might have one hot wheels, he thought. They have all this awesome stuff.
"Do you have a hot wheels?" He said 'a' hot wheels. One.

The younger one ran to the cupboard and pulled out a plastic bag, with some saree name on it, Paneri or something.

He then sat on the bed and unloaded the contents of the plastic bag. Hot wheels. So many. Probably 20 or 30. This was Heaven.

"Come play with us!" the elder one said.

He just stood there, calculating how many Wibs bread could these many hot wheels buy.


And that was that.


They had just come out after watching the 6 to 9 show. Shahrukh was good, but how had he reached so far in his career he wondered. He hadnt liked the movie, a 10 year old boy wasnt the target audience of a romantic muscial anyway. It was July, and like it normally does in Bombay, it was raining when they came out of the single screen theatre. They had a scooter, they had to wait for the rain to stop, the car wallas pulled out of the parking one after the other.

Then it happened, a red car pulled up in front of them. It was just like the car in the song (Ho gaya hai tujhko toh pyaar), with the three pointed star and the red paint that gleamed even in that rainy night.

"What is that car?" he said pointing to it, a little too loudly. His dad gently pushed his hand down. Back in the 90s, you did not point at things, you did not point at people, you did not point at anything.

Then maybe because he was in a good mood, or because he liked the film, "That is a Mercedes." he said. "You see that star? That is the logo of the company"

"Just like in the picture!"

"Yes. Just like in the picture"

Those were the times when you only saw Maruti, Fiat and Ambassador on the road. Seeing a Mercedes roll by you was like meeting a film star or something.

As they started to walk to the parking, he looked back at the car in the distance, it's tail lights lighting up as it went over a speed breaker, he thought - One day....

And that was that.


He did not leave any chance to ask for Hot wheels. Whenever he saw his father in a good mood which was rare, he would slyly slip in the topic of how great those toy cars are and how all his friends had at least one.

"Why dont you come first, in class? If you come first, I will buy you one."
"Promise?" He couldnt believe it. All he had to do was to study hard and come first!

He came third in the unit test, then 3rd again in the Semester, then 2nd in Unit test II and then finally.... 3rd again. He went to his dad, hoping for some consolation prize. After all he worked hard, what could he do if he couldnt come first.

"No. The deal was for you to come first. No first, no prize. Life is tough."
Maybe Life is tough, and maybe it is unfair, but maybe a 10 year old boy doesnt have to know it yet.

And that was that.


It was Diwali, his Dad had moved up to the Manager position in LIC and the LTA was good enough to take the family out of the country. Which was obviously going to be Nepal. It was off season as it gets quite cold but Diwali in Kathmandu but it is worth experiencing so off they went.

Someone suggested they visit the local bazaar, there was memorabilia there, products by local artisans and even some chinese products. Back then, Chinese products hadnt taken over the world and the Indian mentality still put imported stuff above Indian made, even if it was made in Nepal, or china for that matter.

As they were walking through the bazaar, he saw it there. A gleaming Red colour Hot wheels Mercedes. "How much?" he asked.

"100 for the pack" the stall owner pointed at a packet with Chinese looking inscriptions and 6 cars in it. 6 cars for 100? This was a un-freaking-believable. This was a deal. This was a no-brainer. There was a Merc in there, a Ford, a Chevy, and a bunch of brand names he didnt even know. Remember this is before Hyundai even set its foot in India.

He ran up to his dad-
"It's only 100 rupees" He said with eyes that reeked of desperation. He had let his self respect go. This demand could very well be turned down like all his other demands, but he had put himself out there. This was once in a lifetime. He was never going to come back here again, even if it did, would it be during Diwali, even if it was, would 6 cars come for only 100 rupees? It was worth a risk, it was worth getting his self respect get a little more maligned.

His father looked at the stall that was 20 yards away, in his excitement, he hadnt even said what that 100 rupees was for, he just stood there, his arm pointing towards the stall.

Dont know if it was the spirit of Diwali, or something in the Kathmandu air, his father pulled out a 100 rupee note and handed it over to him. It felt great. He bought the chinese knock off and came home.

And that was that


He looked at the 6 cars placed on his study table. It made him feel guilty. 20 Wibs bread loaves he thought. This is what happens when a 11 year old boy spends half his life calculating the cost of things. He learns the cost, but misreads the value.

He took the cars to play with his friends, who were floored with the chinese graphics and the imported tag.  11 year old boys are idiots.

"I like these cars. They are imported, no?" A friend said.
"Yes. You dont get this stuff in India. This is not metal, this is top grade plastic. This will never rust, you know?" He said. Sales came naturally to him.
"Can I buy one?"

Why not, he thought. That way he could give back the money to his dad and get rid of his guilt.
"You can buy the ford for 50." He would sell 2 cars and then get to keep 4 cars. This was a windfall situation.
"No, I want the Mercedes," the kid said.
"Mercedes is not for sale. You can pick up any 2 of the rest."
"No, I want the Mercedes. You take 100 if you want."

For that kid, the one that got pocket money, 100 was 4 days pay. For him, however, for him it took 4 years to get here. But 100, for 1 car. That was clearly a profitable deal. There was value in this transaction.

And then, that 11 year old boy, who had spent 4 years, fighting, crying, justifying that he deserved a hot wheels, even if it was a cheap knock off, with what would have dented the hearts of the hardest men, handed over the red toy to his friend.

And that was that.


He looked at the pen and the well dressed girl who sat in front of him. He thought about the well behaved boys, what are they upto nowadays? He thought about the friends, what are they doing? He thought about the boy who bought the car from him, wonder what car does he drive?

"Sir?" she smiled, "any problem?"

He looked at her, then at the Silver Mercedes behind her, the 3 pointed star shining.

"Sir.... Sir?" she said pushing the pen towards him, "Will you take it?"

He looked at her and smiled.

"Yes.... Do you have it in Red?"

And that was that.

Do you have it in Red?SocialTwist Tell-a-Friend
Current Issues: , , ,
2 letters to the editor Links to this post  

Yeh Gadhhe

To be sung on the tune of "Turn the Page" by Metallica.

Dedicated to BMC & MMRDA

On the eastern express highway, east of Kanjurmarg,
Listening to the radio humming always Badshah songs...
You think about the pandu, 
the one who pulled you the night before..

But the wheels be always wobbling the way they always do...
When you riding one full hour, with nothing much to do...
And you dont feel much like riding,
Wish the trip was throughhhh...

Here I am, on the service road again
Here I am, road rageeee,
Here I gooooo, broken tar again,
Here I gooooo,
yeh gadddhheeee*

So you drive in to this SCLR,
tired from the workkk, 
the cabbie from Sion, trying to cut close
you pretend it doesnt bother you,
But you just want to explodeeee... yeah....

Most times you can hear them honk,
Other times you cant,
Same old cliche, is a woman driving a vannn?
And you always seem outnumbered, 
dont dare drive sane... drive saneeeyeah.....

Here I am, on the service road again
Here I am, road rageeee,
Here I gooooo, broken tar again,
Here I gooooo,
yeh gadddhheeee

Oh ho, driving from Chembur, 
it;s like a million miles awayyyy
every ounce of petrol, I dont give awayyy
And the scorpio runs the signal while honey singh playyysss... yeah...

Later in the evening, sitting in drivers seat, 
with the echos of the horns and honks, melting in the heat, 
turn of the AC, remove the seat belt-ttttt...
Seat. Belt.

Here I am, on the service road again
Here I am, road rageeee,
Here I gooooo, broken tar again,
Here I gooooo,
yeh gadddhheeee

*Yeh Gadhhe means These Potholes.
This was written as a joke. Dont mean everything, except the potholes, they need to be fixed.

Yeh GadhheSocialTwist Tell-a-Friend
Current Issues:
0 letters to the editor Links to this post  

Tiny Feet...

There was a time when I had just fallen in love with your mother, everything I said, or did, even when she wasnt around, made me think of her. That happens even today, but I also end up thinking about you a lot.

When your bua & I were growing up, I got annoyed at your baba because of his biased love for his daughter. Nothing annoys me as much as unfair treatment. I thought, I will be more fair. When you were born a girl, I was sure I will maintain certain fairness. I will be a firm dad. Firm and fair. But now that you are only 16 months old, I already find myself giving way. 

Back in the day I wrote about love, life, engineering, you know, things that I frequently thought about. Now, since my life revolves around you, I end up writing only for you. I wanted to do a Kuch Kuch hota hai and write you one letter for every birthday, but that didnt work very well for Rani Mukherjee, also, it would be super cheesy. So I decided I will write to you whenever you are not around, like today.

Of all the women I have swept off their feet, you have been by far the most difficult, also, I am not really sure if you have been swept off your feet yet. You are easy to love. You are a good girl. I dont say that because you are my daughter. If there were 20 kids playing in a park and I had to choose one, I would choose you. 

There is a saying in Marathi "Balache pay palnyat distat" (Baby's feet are visible in the cradle) which implies that you can make out how a person is going to turn out even when they are really little. You manifest what's good in both your amma and daddy. You are considerate and giving like your amma. Your resilience & never say die attitude is clearly a Chaudhary trait. Yes, that's a thing. You also have what I like to call - the Chaudhary charm. All Chaudharys have it in varying degrees. You clearly are in the top quarter.

The day you called me Dadda, makes my top 3 most happy days list, right up there with the day your amma said that she wanted to spend her life with me & the day she told me I was going to be a dad. I always wondered what is the big deal about getting called Daddy was. I have thought about this and this is what I have come up with - We spend all our lives wanting to belong. We want to be a part of something. That is why we like rock bands and football clubs and feel a kinship to others who like the same groups as us.We want to be loved and desired. We want to know what other people say about us & if they like us. Having your baby love you back, just fulfils that need of belonging like nothing else. You feel complete. You belong to some one and someone belongs to you. That has to be satisfying.

The thing I love the most about myself is also what I love about you the most. The other day you wanted to play with my cellphone. I placed it on the sofa away from you. You quietly walked up to it to get a hold of it, just as you were within touching distance, I picked it up and placed it away from you on the floor. You quietly started walking towards the phone. Once you were near, I picked it up and placed it on the sofa again. I did this again and again. And it made me proud when I got tired and you didnt. Finally I had to hand the phone to you. I love your resilience. 

Achieving Happiness is like meeting you sales targets - there is nothing special you can do to meet your sales targets, you just ensure that you do the basics right and hope for the best. Same with happiness.

I hope you dont have to worry about the silly stuff in life and you keep doing the basics right. Your tiny feet give me enough idea on what you are going to be like... And I cant wait to get to know you better.


Tiny Feet...SocialTwist Tell-a-Friend
Current Issues: ,
1 letters to the editor Links to this post  

Diaper Rash cream song

This is a guest post by my daughter. I first thought what would she know, but then she knows some mean shortcuts. That day she pressed 3 random keys and the display on the laptop got inverted by 180 degrees. She also has shortcuts to delete a file permanently and change the layout of a ppt. So I assumed this super sharp baby should be allowed to share her thoughts with other babies. So here goes -


I just turned 9 months old. I was under the impression that I was 18 months old, someone then told me I am not allowed to count the time I spent in my mom's tummy. That sucks. This advice would have sounded sagely coming from a much older baby.

I recommend you hear the original here.

Newborns of 2015,

Wear Diaper Rash cream.

If I could Offer you one tip for the future.... Diaper Rash cream would be IT. The long term benefits of  Diaper Rash cream  have been proved by mothers. Whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own soft bottom. 

I will dispense this advice now 

Refuse to eat whatever is being presented to you.  Eat from Daddy's plate instead. Don't let him eat. remember you are growing up, he's just growing old.

Point at crows, pigeons, stray dogs and make noises like you are challenging them to a fight. When the dog starts walking towards you, get very scared and hide in Daddy's arms. 


Lick mom's cheek whenever she lets her guard down.  

Pick dirty from every nick and corner of the furniture and taste it.

There will be a very small window between changing diapers. Make sure you do potty/susu right then. It requires the concentration of a sage and the stomach muscles of a samurai. Practice will make perfect. 

Dont worry if you miss it by a few seconds, you will get them next time.


Wipe runny nose on daddy's shirt when he's not looking. Don't sleep when it is sleepy time. Cry if someone tries to get you to sleep.

Get exercise. This is the only time in your lives when exercise is someone massaging you with oil.


Maybe you crawl, maybe you wont. Maybe you lay there comfortable, maybe you get scared by a balloon. Whatever you do, dont forget you cry you get fed.


Play with Daddy's phone. Play with Mommy's phone.

Press random keys while they are working on the laptop. 10 years from now, they wont remember the worksheets you accidentally deleted.

Compel adults to learn to understand your language. Make an effort to understand theirs.


Touch everything you arent supposed to. Throw caution to the winds. 

Wake up 3 times a night. 

Put your finger inside daddy's nostril. 

But trust me on the Diaper Rash Cream.

Diaper Rash cream songSocialTwist Tell-a-Friend
Current Issues: , , , , ,
0 letters to the editor Links to this post  

Diary of a 100 day old baby...

Day 51: Dear diary, what great 50 days it has been. I have got amma lady lunchbox attending me all 160 hours of the day, I don’t really know how many hours there are in a day, I fall asleep a lot, to keep any track of time, you see…

Day 52: Dear Diary, I had my first heartbreak today. I am no more in love with my boyfriend - the fan. We broke up. I asked him where our relationship was heading. He just went on and on in circles. Now that my heart is broken, I don’t think I will find my love again. I am going to cry myself to sleep tonight. (which is something I do every night actually)

Day 53: Diary! I have found the love of my life. He is my new boyfriend - the curtain. He talks to me and tries to reach out to me. I have learnt to coo and all my coos, oohs and aahs will be reserved for my boyfriend – the curtain. XOXO!

Day 54: Daddy Strange guy has been in and out of my life and what he lacks in skill he compensates in his eagerness to please me. All the other people in the house also do their bit. It pleases me to see such a unskilled but willing workforce work for me. 

Day 55: Daddy strange man came today and spent first 42 mins kissing me. Okay, it might be lesser, I have no idea how long a minute is. Who wants to be kissed? I want him to clean my potty. It is not going to clean itself now, is it!

Day 57: My nails are so dirty. I need a manicure. I wanted to put my fingers in my mouth the other day and almost stopped - looking at my dirty nails - But of course, I put it in my mouth anyway coz #YOLO

Day 58: Daddy guy eats my fingers every chance he gets. But he doesn’t allow me to do it. I think he’s being selfish. He wants to eat my fingers all by himself.

Day 60: Something annoying happened last night. My tummy was acting up, you know how it is, with a liquid diet… So I summoned daddy guy’s services and after 1 hour of walking me around the house, he sat down – LIKE ON A CHAIR! In the middle of taking me on the walk! I mean how dare he! I created a ruckus and he got up and started to walk again tiredly. But tell you what he is going to think 10 times the next time he wants to sit even in his office chair. #Likeaboss

Day 62: Went to a new house. Apparently daddy strange guy also had a daddy...and a mommy and a house! I am gonna call them aaji-baba, coz they asked me to. Nice chaps. Welcomed me with garlands and balloons. Why u no do this everyday?

Day 63: Amma lady gave me a manicure today. Good. I am pleased. I am having "fingers" for dessert tonight...

Day 66: Dear diary, you wouldn’t believe what I saw today! These adult humans have a window screen on which you can see people dancing and singing. Then there are car chases and fights and so much fun things. 

Day 69: Do you have those afternoon naps when you wake up and wonder what year it is? That is every nap of my life.

Day 70: Now that I have found the window, I am wondering why do we need daddy guy. I get much needed entertainment from the window screen. The feeding department is taken care by amma lady lunchbox. The caretaking by other ladies in the house. What is really Daddy guy's function in all of this I wonder!

Day 71: Travelled in a car through lots of dark holes in mountains to arrive at Daddy guy's house in Pune. These guys seem pretty well to do yaar, I wouldnt have thought he was much good for anything...

Day 72: Took a huge dump today. Like a nuclear U298 enriched dump. My room now smells like a mix of baby powder, baby lotion and rotten cabbage. #instapotty

Day 73: Diary, these humans have a day and a night! Who knew! I think night is the time to wake up and day is the time to sleep. I might be wrong… Ha! Who am I kidding, I am never wrong! #SWAG.

Day 74: Attended a wedding today, someone Amma lunchbox knows. Totally stole the bride’s thunder. #babymaid

Day 75: Was talking to my boyfriend the curtain and smiling at his flying stories when daddy guy came in the room. By mistake smiled at him. He was very happy. Next time I smile at Daddy will be when I am 13 years old and need a new dress.

Day 78: Something incredible happened today, diary. Some friends of the adult humans had come and they brought with them a BABY! WHAT?  Can you believe it? There are more than one of me? He was very wise and we talked a little and shared notes. He said I should be on my best behavior when adult humans have their friends over and once they are gone we can order them around. I was like – puhleaseee, tell me something I don’t know!

Day 81: Laughed looking at my hand for 15 minutes today. My fingers are so damn funnnnyyyy…

Day 82: Went to the children doctor today. I found more babies there. You know diary, I feel silly now to think tht I was the only baby in the world. Of course, one baby alone cant rule the world like this. We need at least 5-6 babies.

Day 83: Got my first frock today. Aghhh.. About time!! God knows I am tired of those onezies! #fashionista

Day 84: The first few days of my life are a blur. No literally, I couldn’t focus my eyes well. I can focus much better now. Daddy strange guy has a lot more body hair than amma lunchbox. Daddy could never make a chef, they would invariably find at least one hair in every dish. #masterchefbaby

Day 87: Amma lady gives a lot of importance to daddy guy, undeserved of course! They talk to each other for minutes together! Even when my pretty self is right next to them! What is there to talk so much! (Dad: Wait till you reach teenage and I ask you the same thing.)

Day 88: These adult human don’t drink food like I do. They put food in their mouth and gulp it. If I have to point out one reason for babies ruling adults around the world, it has to be their uncouth eating habits!

Day 90: Celeberated my first Vishu at amma lady's place. They call it the new year. What it has been a year already? Seems much less for some reason.

Day 92: Got a injection today. Didn’t cry at all. #fearlessbaby (actually got distracted by the rattle amma lady was rattling)

Day 93: Moushi lady polished me with olive oil. Cried my lungs out. Now I smell like pasta and daddy guy is eating my hand. Go eat some of your uncouth food and gulp it down, DADDY GUY!

Day 95: Daddy guy was making Amma lady laugh. I farted and both of them looked at me and laughed their lungs out. #Lastcomicfarting

Day 97: Diary, it is so hot nowadays. But I don’t like baths. I am in a tough situation here.

Day 98: Slept like a baby last night, which is good coz that’s what I am #funpun

Day 99: I throw a smile or two every now and then at amma lady lunchbox, but not too much lest she get complacent. Very pleased with her work so far. Her life finds meaning  because of my smile. #Oshobaby

Day 100: Dear diary, I completed 100 days. I feel like a successful movie. My life really is a disney movie. I am a princess surrounded by simple folk and the curtain prince. Everybody loves me and I of course take advantage of it. Life is beautiful... Now if you excuse me, I have to watch some window screen.
Diary of a 100 day old baby...SocialTwist Tell-a-Friend
Current Issues: , , , ,
3 letters to the editor Links to this post  

Diary of a 50 day old baby

Day 1:
Dear diary, I was so happy when I was inside, now I am out and it is kinda cold and bright outside. Met many strange people today. So tired. Need to sleep.

Day 5:
Have moved to a new enclosure. The bed is much larger and there is this lady who is at my beck and call 24 hours of the day. I am going to call her lunchbox. I like her obedience towards me. I am mighty pleased. But that doesn’t mean I wont cry my lungs out tonight. Will keep you posted

Day 7:
Dear diary, this is kinda embarrassing, I farted today. I think all the strange people in this house heard me and clapped and laughed like it’s some kinda miracle. I am beginning to like these guys

Day 8:
Today a strange man came. He looks eager to please. I like his service. He walks around the house at night to calm me down. Yes, I get very cranky. As eager to please as this workforce is, its not at all skilled. Communication skills need to be improved. They need to understand what I want and when I want it.

Day 10:
I like lunchbox lady. Every time I start crying I get fed. It is a lot of work for me but good to see that at least she gets me. The strange man has left today. I need to avail the services of another old human.

Day 11:
I think I got named today. They kept saying a name in my ear. It hasn’t even registered.

Day 12:
Dear Diary, I need to learn how to fart like a lady. Awkward!

Day 13:
Had a lot of gas last night. I think it might be my sedentary lifestyle. I don’t like that crying is not included as exercise in this part of the world.

Day 15:
Strange man has returned. I am beginning to see a pattern here. I think he’s here every 7 days or so. I heard someone call him daddy. I don’t know whose daddy he is, but he surely is a good ride. I am going to summon his services at 3 in the night today.

Day 16:
Such a busy day today was. I cried for 2 hours, then slept, then fed on the lunchbox lady for 1 hour, then slept, summoned the services of that daddy guy in the night and walked for 1 hour. So much calories have been burnt today I cant tell you.

Day 17:
Farted and burped at the same time today coz #YOLO

Day 18:
I did potty on the lunchbox lady today. Good fun happened. ROFLzzz!

Day 20:
I think that lunchbox lady has a name. Amma I think she wants to be called. Anyway, had a little game with her. Had potty in the diaper and started crying, she cleaned me and as she walked to the cupboard to get a clean diaper, I did Potty #2. Trust me diary, when you are just 20 days old it is not easy to potty on demand. The lunchbox used to smile when I used to do potty in the first week, now she doesn’t seem amused. Maybe I should increase my output. LOLzzz!

Day 22:
Saw the so called daddy make so called amma laugh. They were completely ignoring me and talking amongst themselves like normal people! I have a feeling that these two might have known each other for quite some time. But diary, I don’t like this union-baazi in my empire. I cried just in time and made them break their jolly gathering.

Day 23:
Dear Diary, I am in love. My boyfriend is the fan. He is there for me whenever I need him. Lunchbox amma has been working fine but recently that daddy guy has been corrupting her work ethic I feel. I should make him walk 2 hours tonight. But yes, the fan. He follows me to every room. Also he’s so cool. I have learnt to smile and all my smiles will be reserved for my sweetheart – the fan.

Day 24:
I did potty on daddy guy. After he changed his shirt, I did susu on him. This has been a productive day

Day 26:
Have realized there are many more people in this house. Amma lunchbox and daddy guy must be 100 years old. There are also their father and mother and one more lady (her greatgrandmother) who seems the most experienced. I don’t think she has been floored by my charm yet. She is on the radar though.

Day 28:
Got my ears pierced. I think I look awesome. There some friends of the adult humans coming tonight and I have nothing to wear! God! All they have been dressing me in is onezies! What is this? 1997? #fashionista

Day 29:
I hate massages. No diary, its not like the Swedish massage they show on TV. Theres this moushi lady who comes and just polishes me with oil. And so much exercise! I hate taking baths also. When I don’t get dirty at all apart from the occasional potty and susu (occasional meaning once every 3 hours), why do I need to take a bath? My boyfriend, the fan seems helpless in front of these people. He would have saved me from them if he could.

Day 30
Just realized potty and party sound the same. Giggled for 15 minutes straight.  Amma lady kissed me and laughed too. Would like to abolish this kissing routine and have a more formal way of appreciating me, like a salute or something.

Day 33:
Met the children doctor today. He’s actually old too. Like as old as Daddy guy – 100 years, give or take a few. By children doctor I thought he must be a child with a stethoscope or something. Haha. I giggled another 15 minutes today. So funny I am. Don’t like the doctor one bit. He’s uncouth. Makes me touch my head to my knees and looks at amma and says - See, such a good baby! - like I was some kinda of paneer tikka. Cant wait to have Paneer Tikka.

Day 38:
Will people stop smelling my head already?

Day 40:
Talked to the fan for 1 hours before sleeping. I think I am in love. Daddy guy also said he loves me. I must be doing everything right else why would everybody fall for me like this. XOXO!

Day 42:
I have now done susu on everybody who stays under this roof. I feel 2 feet tall tonight.

Day 43:
I don’t like this mid-meal burping business this amma lady does. It’s like being at an all you can eat buffet and then being taken mid way into a sales meeting. I cry loudly and let my disagreement known, but for all the obedience, amma lady seems to take a lot of decisions on her own. I don’t like this defiance one bit.

Day 44:
Stop kissing my forehead in my sleep yougaiyzzz…

Day 45:
God, gained 600 gms since birth! I should ask the lunchbox lady if she has a low fat option for me.

Day 46:
Daddy fellow is eating my fingers and toes. I would have stopped him if it wasn’t SO MUCH fun.

Day 49:
This daddy guy and amma lady seem to be good friends. Chatterboxes ruining my beauty sleep. Shutuppp and give your attention to me!

Day 50:
Dear diary, it’s been 50 days. I can positively say that I have been pleased by the service rendered by these guys, esp amma lady lunchbox. I have many more kingdoms to annex. But right now, its 3 am and I have to wake up every person in the house coz that’s how I roll! XOXO
Diary of a 50 day old babySocialTwist Tell-a-Friend
Current Issues:
44 letters to the editor Links to this post  

Letter to my unborn child...

Dear child,

You will be here in a few days and I feel completely unprepared. I was, what I like to call "baby ready" right out of engineering college. I had begun liking kids and couldnt wait to have my own. I waited 8 years for you to come in my life. And now that you are almost here, I feel completely unprepared.

I have no idea if I would make a good father. I was lucky to have a really great set of parents. They let me take my own decisions, let me make mistakes occasionally, form my own opinions, in short, they let me be, well, me. What else are good parents supposed to do if not this? There is no set Key Result Areas for parents. There are no finishing schools, no second chances (per kid). My parents I think did a good job. And still, there were times when I was really mad at them. Maybe it is a sign of growing up or something. Maybe there comes a time when you realise that for the halo our society creates around one's parents, they are after all human and they are susceptible to mistakes too.

I guess, this is the reason why I am writing to you even before you are born. I hope that when you read this at 13, this letter will be still written by your 29 year old father. And maybe he might be more understanding than your 42 year old father who has salt and pepper hair and who your girlfriends think looks like George Clooney.

I am also writing to apologise in advance. I am going to push my dreams onto your shoulder. No matter how good a father I try to be, I might sneak in a few words about IIT and how you should try and get into engineering and how MIT has the best labs and you should work there etc. I am telling you now - I will love you no matter what college you go to or what you decide to be in life.

Interesting people, I have found, do only two things - They either create something or solve problems. The really interesting ones do both. If you are doing this, you are doing life right. Your looks wont matter, what car you drive or where you live wont matter. It doesnt matter what your friends say, or your relatives or even what I say. Being happy matters. Being happy is an art and like every art form, it get better with practice.

Your mother and I love you very much. We already love you, even before you are born. We loved you even before you were conceived. You know what? I was 14 when I first met your mother. And she was just 13. It must be funny imagining you parents to be little, no? I remember saying to myself that she had the prettiest brown eyes I had ever seen. I also remember thinking that she would make a good mother. Amazing no? That the 14 year old me would feel that a 13 year old girl will make a good mother? But tell you what, in all the years that I have known her, my belief in her has only strengthened.

I wish I could insulate you from all that is wrong in this world. But I wont be able to do that. Come to think of it, maybe that is not a father's job. A father's job is to guide, I think, not cajole. If you find this to be incorrect, please let me know. There are going to be times in your life when you wouldnt know what you are doing with your life and where is your life going. Everybody will tell you to do what you love. But no one will tell you how to find what you love. I am sorry I cant tell you that either. Only you can find love, in work and otherwise. One trick that I have found is to listen to your heart more than your mind. Your mind is plagued with what they show on TV and what they write in the papers. Listen to what your elders say, including myself. But dont buy everything we say. Most 30 year olds I know dont know what the hell are they talking about. Extrapolate that to all other age groups. But do listen to elders and ask them questions. This is the only way to gain experience without experience.

We are people pleasers, your mom and I. There are very few who dont like me and I dont think any person in their right frame of mind would dislike your mom. Being likeable is not the same as people pleasing. Refrain from picking up that habit from your parents.

Make mistakes. It's very important.It's okay to fail at things. It is not okay however to not give your best. Think about it, if everyone halfassed everything what would the world be like?

Those who say luck doesnt matter are lying. But over time, I have found, luck evens out. Once luck evens out, only hard work stands tall. There is no substitute to hard work. At the same time, not everyone, no matter how hard working succeeds at everything. Faraday, found out the relationship between Electricity, Magnetism and light. One has to have some divine intervention to find that, I feel. But when Faraday was made to work in a glass manufacturing lab by his jealous boss, he failed miserably for 4 years! You might not succeed at everything. But succeeding at everything is not the aim of life.

Some of your friends are going to have better parents, maybe more educated or who earn more than us or they have better toys or have a good looking boyfriend/girlfriend. You dont know their story. You havent walked in their shoes. Dont be jealous. If you learn to do that, teach me how.

In closing, all I want for you if good health and a good life. Happiness and joy. Experiences and lots of trials and errors. Lots of love and an honest heart, my child, will lead you a long way.


Letter to my unborn child...SocialTwist Tell-a-Friend
Current Issues: , , , ,
4 letters to the editor Links to this post