8 years

I thought of starting another blog.  My earlier shot at blogging got aborted too soon. . .Motherhood took over.  I even forgot that I had once started a blog.  However google has an amazing memory.  So this is Calbong.. Back after several years. .Now a seasoned mother , with a new career,  a few wrinkles and spots here and there and less time to spare ... I want to write again ..

Happiness & OM chanting

8 months have been fantasctic, confusing, emotional and revealing. To start off with things were different. Physical change, slowing down, new responsibility& hormones did play havoc with mind and body for a while. Then came the phase of adjustment and happiness. Its fun to start talking to the baby, trying to visualise her, guess his sex, figuring out names etc. Its wonderful to fall in love with your unborn child. Every thing else takes back seat.


But there are days when enerrgy levels are low, acidity hits the roof, aches and pains and general fatigue make you slow down a bit.


A few quick pick me ups

• Chant OM 10 times- 5 times with O elongated and M shortened
• then the reverse - O shortened and M elongated
• goes without saying , one needs to sit at a quiet corner, wearing clean lose clothes and not be in a hurry
• May be you can play some music in the back ground and light a scented candle
• If you are the no fringe sort just sit in a clean corner
• Drink nimbu pani
• Drink Musambi juice
• Take a break from work and walk around a bit
• Sneak out and get a quick fix beauty therapy done at a nearby parlour
• By a small bar of chocolate
• Catch up with a girl friend with a positive cheerful frame of mind

and thats it... you will be fine.

And if not pick up th phone & dont forget to speak to your Doc

Motherhood & Issues

Few more weeks to go and I will be free to run, to smoke, to party and to wear what I want to wear.

Last seven months had not only added kilos to my body, a lot of weighty issues got solved by me. They all started puzzling me at the beginning. Now after seven months the cloud has cleared. It took me 35 years and seven months of pregnancy to realize that being slow physically is not negative. Taking short breaks at work is good. It helps you to feel re-charged. Relaxing & letting go at times is good. Looks, sex appeal are skin deep. So many years- millions and millions of bottles, jars of moisturizing agent, skin tightening packs – nothing really has been of much use. Your body starts reacting to hormones- any amount of moisturizer does not help when nature decides otherwise.

Another finding. The greatest of all. Lot of your male friends starts avoiding you. Start wondering about your past relationship with them and feel that somewhere you were dumb and you never looked at the sexual angle. But like most men ( the generalization!!!!) – your friends were men- there was an undercurrent somewhere- and now in spite of all your pregnancy glow no one is willing to spend time with you.

And the stories- some of them add to your insecurity issues. Your partner may be fantasizing about other women. You go through articles in glossy magazines which state scary statistics – 3 in ten husbands/ partners cheat during these nine months. Even scarier is when a much married male friend confides in you and says post child 2 has never found his wife attractive.

Worse- partner traveling/ in meeting- stops responding to your sms es- does not return your call- no amount of yoga or meditation helps- you start imagining things-

But I am sure somewhere I must have had done good things- all this fear is inflicted on me through glossy magazines- and nothing is amiss in my life….

Amidst all these insecurities & anxieties there is one great knowledge- pregnancy makes you grow up- the child in you prepares for looking after another child…

May be now that I have come to terms with all my fear I will be a more secure person and be able to distinguish the real from the unreal…

But i will party hard too

The changes

It took me exactly four months to start living again. The initial phase was tough- the very knowledge did not give me peace. Also some stereotypes are in my head- good or bad cant get rid of them.

I kept scrutinizing all my actions- why am I not feeling the way my sister did, or why am I crying because I cant go out partying any more, may be I am officially old now- sex , men etc wont happen to me any more.

My skin felt more uneven, acne and pimples are more in number,hair scantier, body more out of shape. At work I am not going to get an increment this year as my performance is getting hampered- mentally I did not feel upto working any more. But an inner voice kept saying that a job is the only outlet I have- atleast I have a place to go to.

Months went like this - just this week when I went to my Doc and saw the baby again inside my womb, I felt I am like the other stereotypes. I do feel maternal. I dont care if I have a sagging body and skin and a portruding belly. I am happy to just see the outline of the limbs which are growing inside me. Partying can wait!!!!!

New year resolutions

to be slim, to walk every day, to read Management books on a daily basis, not eating junk food- the list is never ending. and the content of the list has remained almost the same since the past 16 years. if i want to pinpoint , the New year eve parties are responsible for most of the resolutions made the next day. the eve is full of excesses- either me or a friend is very badly drunk, we have consumed enormous quantity of food, danced wildly and badly on Hindi numbers which otherwise in sane frame of mind would have not related to... all put together next day I want to start afreash. its like a residue of puke stuck in my throat- making me feel empty, slightly vulgar- I can almost visualise a few extra lines on my face, a few more spots on my skin- the alcohol and the excess making their presence felt on my face, my mind, my spirit and me entering another year of my life.

the resloutions germinate usually by the evening of 1st Jan. the stale hang over is on its way out by then and I feel like turning over a new leaf and be the good girl I want to be.

My first blog

I got influenced by a friend to give a shot at blogging. After following the simple steps of creating an account, when I came to the dash board what hit me was that I would have to start writing , somebody might chance upon my writing, I might be scrutinised...... The words and unwritten stories that crowd my head when I am going to bed and actually dont take any form, due to basic issues like lack of a pen and paper, husband wants to sleep, yoga class next morning, got to make it to office on time- there are whole lot of reasons- none of the same story ideas seem to be coming to me right now.

Still I am feeling nice . It gives me a platform to write endlessly- is this freedom of speech- or is it the anonymity - whatever it is – it is a feeling of liberation.

I remembered reading Virginia Woolf ‘ A Room of One’s Own”- it’s a long essay written in a rather roundabout and tedious way ( pardon me for saying this). Fortunately I have an erudite & encouraging elder sister – she provided an immense amount of moral support to me and I did finish reading the book.
I was exhausted after the experience – somewhere little bewildered- did not really know how to rate the book. And somewhere I desperately craved for an Agatha Christie. However once I got out of the sheer exhaustion of reading Virginia Woolf , I felt somewhere she did make sense. A woman cant be a writer unless she has money and a room of her own!

I was barely twenty one / twenty two then. Now after 12-13 years when I am writing my first blog, I remembered Virginia Woolf. Even without any talent, as I have a personal laptop and enough money to afford a cook and an uncomplaining husband who does not really mind me not serving hot rotis to him, I have the luxury of writing my first blog at 9.30 at night- and I am feeling good, empowered and many other emotions.

I remember finding some letters written to my father by my mother ( when she was twenty and already had her first child) and odd bits of poetry hidden in the diary where the shopping list, telephone no.s, laundry list would be crowding most of the pages.

Ma was brilliant- emotional, naïve but very authentic and honest.
May be if she had some money may be she would not have had stopped writing . These days her diaries are organized – there are no poetries.

Virginia Woolf- you were right.