Thursday, June 21, 2007


When I was younger, I wanted to look like a princess. Nothing in my wardrobe made me look like one. Those were my paltry pocket money days, so I couldn’t afford those fancy wasteful dresses on a whim. Then one day I was talking to Omana Aunty ( though she is only 9 yrs older than me, I call her aunty and she hates it) about my princess whim.
She said that she had a dress like that and I could wear it for a day. I still remember that dress, long and shimmering in burnished gold making me feel like a princess. I was so happy that day.
After that day no dress I bought gave me that kind of happiness.
Yesterday I had just bought a dress, black n sleek when I got the call. She passed away. Not even one, beautiful with two dimples, who in her innocence thought that a metal screw was something yummy. “She looked like a princess”, her grandfather said. Omana Aunty’s lil one.

Shreya you are god’s bestest princess. Please tell him to take care of your Amma and all the people who will miss you every breathing moment.

Friday, June 15, 2007


I finished my third swimming class today at 8 am.

My routine to make this happen

Where’s the AC remote?”, My hubby whispered in my ear. It was 5:30 am , the time of the day I have never seen after the the 10 th std maths board exam. I woke up with a nagging feeling. I could hear thunder.
Shit , I want to sleep. I haven’t had 8 hours of sleep from a long time.
Sleep sweet child
Eyes shut, dead to the world
Over exerted knees, permanent neck pain, baby you need sleep
You need it darling to kiss those dark circles away
Sleep honey sleep…

So I woke up, boiled 3 glasses of warm water and drank it in one shot. I could feel the bile rise. Packing a super huge sports bag with the essentials, shampoo, conditioner, sunscreen (though it never works) n office clothes and blah blah , I was off to my third swimming class . Auto muthu was waiting for me …yea at 6:30am.

Everybody has unanimously agreed that she hates me the most. “She” refers to Mercy, the swimming instructor with no mercy. She hit me on the head today for the fourth time from yesterday. And I wasn’t all that bad. I think she knows instinctively that I am a sport and terrified of her. She hates Lena (my friend and colleague) too. But not as much as me. She is tolerant of slobbering people who are definitely worse than us. But I think I don’t really hate her. She is okay. May be she may try to murder me tomorrow. (I am not too sure n not a schizophrenic).

I have tanned, caned and been humiliated. Yet I am happy because I don’t want to drown….not even in a moment of sadness.

Thursday, June 07, 2007


I am going home tomorrow ,to be that lil girl who danced in the Kerala rain pretending to be the Liril girl, with my lil girl.

Home here I come

There are two kinds of fights,
The one where I want to walk away
But I can’t cos the love’s still alive
I love these fights
They just mean
That I want to see the more of you
That you have loud voice
When you scream
I am crying because
I have tear ducts
I am throwing a tantrum
Cos I have tested positive for
Attention deficiency.
( Hubby n mom come under this)

The other one
brews in the mind
Brownie points for
Every subtle insult
yet no screaming
but hating while smiling
( PL , Leather Pants, MIL, SIL …if ever you read this , you know wat I mean)

Sunday, June 03, 2007


Yesterday I gave the cleaning lady 100 bucks and bourbon biscuits and creamy coffee because I thought she made a face at the mess. Yesterday was also the day when the other maid walked out. She’s the one who cooks a bit and baby-sits, watches serials in a 29-inch TV, eats exotic fruits from my fridge and sleeps in a room with a 2-ton AC blasting through the night. We gave her 3000 thousand bucks for this. May be she wanted 5000 bucks, more exotic fruits, longer TV watching hours and no baby to look after. May be.

And how do I feel today? It’s a Monday morning. I am at office wearing casuals, having a bad day and a bad hair/face/body/mind day. There were two roads in front of me. I chose the one that said career+ family. The other one said Housewife. I didn’t want to be a housewife. It’s almost like being a wall with no identity , something like a glorified maid. But as I sit in the office, I am thinking about the baby, the heart breaker maid and my appointments with clients in the afternoon (when I’ll get roasted and dehydrated and more tanned). Oh for a book to curl to and a baby to play with and the luxury of putting face packs and conditioner in the hair. It’s not so bad , I guess to be that wall with no identity.