What is it between Girls and Sarees ???

I am a hassled working mom. That is the most practical definition that I can ascribe to myself. My personal life revolves round the fact that I am a "MOM"..... all other relations are rather incidental, pushed to the periphery of my existence by the "little angels' " demands on my time, my space, my resources and of course my patience, mind you though not necessarily in that order!
Whatever remains of me beyond that I marshall, so that I don't fail to deliver on the professional front. The reader will find it difficult to believe ( I find it terribly difficult too!) that a decade ago I was quite ambitious to climb the corporate ladder ... you know the ropes ... executive to sr. executive to officer to manager, in fact I had made it to the Group Manager level before I was blessed with my little tyke. After ayear and a half of sabbatical when I landed again on the shores of " the employed", my entire perspective of proper utilization of my time and resources had changed! Phew, so much for being an emancipated woman..... with the little one occupying the major portion of my mind and motive.
Well, I have been droning along, and you have been wondering where the saree part fits but please bear with me my friends, I am getting to it...... by and by....
Well last Saturday, was one of those days when I had my own moral sanction to go out with my better half for an evening of shopping, eating and literally stealing a couple of hours of life as it was a decade back. So now you get the drift..... shopping for Pujas and sarees are inexorably bound together isn't it?
The saree shop was teeming with women of all shapes and sizes and choices, some with kids and some with husbands in tow( they make decision taking easier you know!). I and my better half gallantly landed in the central hall well laid out with low sitting stools and the middle of the hall littered with sarees of all exhilarating hues and designs.
My better half always tells me that "I come alive" when I step into a saree shop or a jewellery shop. I dont entirely disagree, but I tell him that he's forgetting to mention " the book shop"......
Anyway, it is a wonderful game that unfolds in the saree shop, you have to have a quick eye and spot "your saree" and without drawing too much attention either snap it up yourself or get your hubby to do it or make proper eye contact with the salesperson and make him separate the " unique" piece and offer it to you. Right at the beginning I lost out on a dreamy moss green with a violet / golden leaf embroidered number, because I couldnt control myself and screamed out, "get me that", immediately the woman nearest to it, snapped it up and looked at me cooly and told me she had got it first. .... well I retreated and changed tactics. I started casually pointing out this and that saree along with "that special saree" everytime I came across a saree that I wanted desperately for Goddess Durga, my mom, my mom-in-law, my sis-in law, my pishi....I was adamant not to buy any saree for myself......!!!! HonestlyI dont have the time nor the energy to dress myself up in a saree on a normal working day....what remains are some parties, some special celebrations and some Puja days, I have hoarded up sarees with the penchant of an antique collector who simply has to have "that antique" on which is mind is set. I have a collection which is represented by pieces from all parts and regions of India. I still have some more ground to cover.... but if you speak of national integration from the saree point of view.....I have almost made it!!!
So, well then, this being recession time, let me not waste money on a thing which I am not likely to use in the nearest future, I grandiloquently thought. The thought went right out of the window the moment my eyes caught sight of an off white , hand woven no. with embossed golden paisley patterns running the length of it. Rs. 1140/- the tag said,.... quite reasonable my mind said..... put it down this instant, my better mind said. I gingerly put it down, braved a look at my better half who was smiling benignly.....I heard a woman across the hall scream... hey show me that off white no, Pllllllllllllllllllllllllllssssss....... the next instant I saw dazedly, my right arm swoop out and lift the magical piece and put it on my better half's lap. I turned to him with a smile and said..... after all I am sure you would have bought me something for the Pujas???? I saw him bravely attempt to wipe the smile from his face and reply in all seriousness, " Of course! I was just about to ask you to go for the off white saree, I like it a lot, you know". Well then there sure is that something unidentifiable but magnetic between the feminine clan and the wonderful thing called "saree" which gives them a wonderful affinity like fire and oxygen, No?????

Random strokes of my daughter......

In a pleasant not so sunny morning of mid April , while showing off to me the flowers in her garden (which happen to be tended on her behalf by her dada!( granpa)) , my 4 yr old daughter proudly showed me the “light pink” flowers of the mucaenda, then the “light (y)ellow” flowers of the "kanchan" .

She then proceeded to inform me that , her garden also had lots of red flowers (ixora) and orange flowers (lilies standing proud with their faces upturned on their sturdy green stems) . She has a peculiar way of pursing her lips, screwing her nose, furrowing her eyebrows and then stating her point in a very adult-I- know- what-I-am- speaking –and-you-better-believe-me-look. When she does this I have this intense urge to fold her into my arms, in fact my whole being and cover her with kisses and hugs.

Then she burst out in peals of merriment rolled on the marble window seat (kept spotless by her doting "aeba" (granma) for precisely this kind of impromptu act of the little elf) and said “ mamma daekho flowers gulo te na God “toop” (as in bindi on the forehead) poriye diyeche” (mamma see, God has put bindis on the foreheads of these flowers!!) and again rolled on the window seat in genuine wonder and joy as if she has caught God in an act of childish naughtiness.

Any one who is familiar with the “kanchan flower” will vouch that it is quite abundantly found in West Bengal in white varieties. Our (sorry my daughter’s) garden boasts of a yellow and also a burgundy colour( quite rare) of the same flowering plant. This yellow one has a beautiful rich brown dot as big as the imprint of an adult forefinger deep within the cavity where the five petals of the flower join to form a cup. This was the “toop” that my daughter had suddenly noticed and brought to my attention while staring out of our living room French window overlooking the garden.

I was wonder struck by a little one's power of observation and the ease with which the observation found expression in her words.

I and my maa exchanged proud glances, a warm feeling engulfed me like a space bubble (as I left for office and went about doing the rest of the chores for the day!) and kept me happy and perky throughout the day.

Of ties that bind.......

When I am in one of my philosophical moods I wonder what is there to life? The same routine of waking up, breakfast, work, lunch, more work (at home or office or anywhere else) , tea & snacks (if one is lucky), more work , dinner (if one is very very lucky) and sleep (indeed if one is really lucky)...... Life is like a neverending saga of the daily routine unfolding with ruthless predictability and coldness. What makes it special ? worth living....? what is it that makes one want to work, to cook, to eat, to feed, to return to the same four walls, lay one's tired head on the same pillow and then start over, the same thing once again???

The heart smiles and tells me, living is indeed a labour of love, done unconditionally for those special ties that bind us to love, to life itself.....

You love your child, want to give her the best of whatever is within your power (perhaps strive for more !), so you pick yourself up every morning, and go to work. You are one of those lucky few who has a nice workplace with nicer people... but there are people who die a thosand deaths at their workplace but still keep at it for YOU-KNOW-WHAT!

You hate cooking yet everytime you like a dish or see something yummy you want to get the recipe so that you can cook it for your mom (who has till date fed you millions of plates of tasty wholesome food!) and for your dad too (who has visited the bazaar endless no. of times to provide the raw materials for those millions of plates!)

In your little ones face, you see a fleeting expression and glimpse of your sibling and stop short in your tracks, walking down memory lane with your heart in your mouth, hand in hand with your adolescent brother and your toddler sister (who are now all grown up and married and settled in their own lives and sometimes act so ummm practical and this-is-life-so why-dont you-grow-up-too-bit).

In your better half's smile, you see the tie which has held you through thick and thin, through all those bouts of you-dont-understand-and-I-dont-care-a-damn phases, and also those special moments when you would have turned down a shahrukh-khan-proposal for your practical, no frills, no nonsense kind of an ordinary (yet so so very special) man.

Aah, these invisible ties of love and nurturing, responsibility and care which bind us and make us do things which we would love not to do......... that bestows on LIFE its true charm and makes all us poor tied and bound creatures of GOD accept with gratitude the gift of life and give our utmost to all the-i-wouldnt-touch-it-with-a-barge-pole-kind of work.