Chapter 10: Perfect mix of emotions, desires and energy

After a long time, I decided to write again. Or should I say in between life and work I found the much desired “me-time” today. Friends – who are they? How did you all make friends? Did you connect instantly? Was it over common hobbies? Or was it an odd encounter or was it romantic? Let me take you through my journey of making friends. Strict warning before you read on – I only have a few.

 I was quite an introvert in my school days – my main goal was to get into a good college so that I can take over all the attention of the family from all my other high-flying cousins. I did always have an issue with getting too attached to whoever I sat next to at school for the year so every year without fail on the last day of the school year I would be super sad, teary-eyed and throwing a ruckus that I now needed to find a new partner to sit beside. The major issue was that the school was teaching us to be social and so that we don’t form too strong of bonds with specific group of boys/girls they would rotate the students into different sections (each grade was divided into 4 sections – basically 4 different classrooms) every school year. Among all this heart break and stress of finding a new person to sit with I found a girl who I claimed as my best friend for 3 years of my school life. She was super elite – she was the teacher’s favorite as she could do no wrong, she was super intelligent and aced all exams, she was a great athlete and raced everyone out off the tracks, she was a great singer, and her melodies got her a front stage at the choir, and she had the biggest fan following among the boys. To be honest I just looked like a loser in front of her, however I could give a damn about it. What connected us was our silly laughs, our endless gossips (which I initiated mostly), our similar parent-story, and our perfect-balance as we were so different as individuals. I don’t really understand why I always called her my best friend, but I think a part of me felt at ease talking to her about anything and everything and because she was like a sounding board for me, I could often run my wild ideas by her. We grew apart as we navigated through the higher grades, and though we landed up even in the same college our silly laughs were replaced at that point were overshadowed with our desires from life – a career, a boyfriend, travel etc. Now I just know where she lives and often hear she is doing well but have no contacts with her.

My second attempt at finding my best friend was much easier. I was having a rough first year at college and I was just trying to put myself out there (expression standing for forcing myself) to look social and cool to my super-cool college classmates. I met this boy with whom I wanted to chat for hours. I have always like talking (as you can see). However, this was different. He was not my friend from school, college or family acquaintance but he seemed more familiar than all. I was comfortable sharing my career goals, my dreams about a perfect Bollywood life, and eventually secrets that I had buried deep inside me for years. I started feeling so close to him that I started emphasizing the negatives in me, so that he understands who I am. Talking to him became my habit, days were difficult when he was travelling for work or if he had prior commitments and we could not talk. Unfortunately, he worked in a completely different city so physically we could meet only once a quarter and when he left, it seemed to have left a hole in my life. As days became years, we decided we are a habit for each other that we cannot live without. We got married. Looking back at it now, those were one of the best years of my life. The anticipation of waiting for him to come at the end of the quarters, the heartbreak when he left, the small tokens and cuteness of celebrating Valentine’s Day, Birthdays, New Years’ etc. Sending each other gifts, emails, fighting and getting jealous on weird occasions – everything about that time was sweet. The husband is the second time ever in life I have called anyone my best friend.

My third attempt – this was in UK. I was homesick – which in my words are – I missed everyone who would cook different dishes for me, listen to my nonsense self-created gossips for hours, help clean up, manage my finances, go shopping with me and be by my side day in and out. I had started college, but that life was very different from that in India and I was still trying to come first in my class to get the full attention of everyone I ever knew. For the first time in my student life, I belonged to a group of cool students – a German, a Swiss/Australian, a Nigerian and two Icelandic ladies. We connected based on our focus towards academics and career to start with and then over her upside-down pineapple cakes. She is one of the best bakers I have ever known and the greatest listener I have ever met. She has been part of my life since then. It was easy to talk to her, it was natural to let the guard on my emotions down in front of her. I enjoyed English festivities with her, cried over silly stuff by her side, got her used to Indian rituals/festivities etc.

I don’t know what the definition of friendship really is – looking around and seeing my son go through the different stages of life I am more troubled. Looks like the definition of friendship is even more lose today. It’s all about social media likes, the more you are liked there the more “friends” you will end up with. The likes on the other hand does not have anything to do with your hard work, achievement, passion, character etc. They are more likely than not are related to how well you advertise yourself and how controversial they are.

Chapter 9: Bold & Beautiful

When my son was born 11 and a half years back, I was not one of those mothers who instantly took to motherhood and ran with it. I felt a rush of responsibility to keep a human safe and protect him from everything evil. The first night I did not sleep in fear if I don’t hear him, and I miss something important. I was not natural, so it took us some time to bond and over unusual things. We connected over Bollywood songs and rhymes; I would often sing my sentences to him. As I was doing my MBA, I would read the texts aloud to him and he would respond babbling. We would snuggle in the rare English sun in the afternoon. On the days that he would go to the day care the best part was picking him up. That smile when he saw me waiting at the door was priceless. Slowly but surely, he became the center of my universe. The urge to succeed took a backseat in front of the urge to make him most successful and see him happy. I describe our relationship in 4 ways:

Best friends – Yes, he became my best friend. I love talking, for the first time when I realized this baby likes listening and unlike everyone else does not shut me up, we connected instantaneously. What I did not understand was that I created a “Mini-me”. We talk to each other all the time about almost everything. Life, work, career, neighbors, F1 races, teenage heartbreaks etc. He is undoubtedly my best friend. He cares about me, when I am angry, he hugs me silently, when I am sad, he holds my hand, when I am wrong, he points it out, when I disagree, he argues, when I am mom, he behaves almost like a teenager.

Balancing Act – I love and he hates horror movies, so most of the time we end up watching comedies. I love and he hates long drives, so we mostly spend time in the home theatre on his free weekends. He loves and I hate documentaries, so we watch Big Bang Theory. He loves meat and I am a Bong, so we eat a lot of Sushi. I am super OCD, and he is very relaxed, so we never miss any appointments, work very hard and get to enjoy afterwards. I have very strict boundaries and he is a rebel (out-of-the box thinker), so our science projects are fantastic. I love rules and he loves Cars and Ninjago so we build a lot of Legos together.

Biggest Cheer/Critique – if you have read my previous blogs you would know by now that I hold myself to very high expectations. So does he. In the toughest of times whether in personal or professional settings he has stood by me and pushed me to take certain risks. He is not afraid of calling out when things are wrong, and it has pushed both of us to be the best versions of ourselves. We have failed and seen real tough times. We have at the same time enjoyed successes. We do not always agree specially when it comes to approaches to solving a task at hand simply because of our difference in personality, however we always hug it out.

Beautiful and Bold – I cannot even think what life looks like without him. At the same time sometimes, I wonder how I would have been able to handle all the curve balls life threw at me if it was not for him. In the toughest of times, I did not let myself breakdown as I wanted to be a bold example for him. At the same time, he beautifully accepted the challenges and supported me with every bit. Today, I stand again at a very difficult junction of life where we must be bold – if we decide to cross it’s going to be long and tough journey, one on which I must let him walk alone however it leads to the land of numerous beautiful opportunities.

Wish me luck……

Chapter 8: Selfish me …..

You would often hear your parents/elders say with age comes experience. I say, yes with age you experience a lot of life stages, but you can also gain experience as you push your limits, your urge to venture and know the unknowns, to live how you want to – and there is no right age for that. Okay, I know I sound cheesy like the Bollywood scriptwriters – “Jaa Simran Jaa, jee le apni zindagi” (Translation – Go Simran run in your most expensive party dress to catch the pretty slow moving train where your boyfriend is trying to do a gentle yoga pose to pull you in, and live your life” – Uff the drama, but I will not complain I love it every time I see it and I cry).

So, here comes “The Unknowns”, early in my life when my mom was just starting to be my best friend, I was just tiny bit gaining confidence in her shopping ability to buy me my hair bands, I lost her in a very unexpected way. Since then, an angel has always spread her wings over me and helped me grow gradually, mature gently, throw tantrums charmingly, judge wisely, cry romantically, fight violently, but live fully. What she was to me? – she was loving but strict, she was my teacher but doctor, she was a great cook but an even better psychologist, she was an artist but a finance guru, she was kind but worldly wise, she was well read but enjoyed Govinda, she was my favorite, but we had the most fights. Yes, I grew up to know the world as she described to me – it is an endless space that makes you carve out your own, how much you carve out depends on how successful you are, how successful you are can only be defined by you as you are the only one who knows what struggles you have been through. Till this day I believe in it. There are days when I hate myself and I am hard on myself and there are days when I get two seconds of attention and it melts me down.

I don’t remember the big events we celebrated together or the big trips we took but I remember a couple of things that I want to pen down. She was super adventurous, yes, she travelled the world by herself, loved trying out different cuisines, making friends and getting my German friend with her English hubby super interested in “Kaun Banega CrorePati” (Translation – Hindi full on dramatized version with the Sean Connery of Bollywood movies “Mr. Amitabh Bachchan’s” version of Who Wants to Become a Millionaire?). However, when I say adventurous, I meant it in a sweety naughty way, just referring to my last chapter as I mentioned I always held myself to the highest expectations and the pressure kind of became the sole reason for me not to be able to perform to my potentials. She understood and to make the exam times in school be not like “Ramsay movies” (Translation – living hell where nothing made sense), she let me pick three movies, a big 1 liter Coca cola and Chinese food for the last day and honestly it worked like a charm. I would wait for the last day not worrying about not performing but dreaming about catching up on junk (both for the eyes and for the tummy). She somehow was the only one who knew pushing did not work rather she would always sit me down and let me speak. And to tell you the least I can speak “A natural Ted Talk speaker I am, who can speak non-stop”. She taught me the importance of space, space to grow.

Life was though not always Karan Johar movies for us. We had our super dark moments too. The teenage years I was a complete pain – to be honest I feel my family still thinks I am a complete pain (story for another day). My tantrums, my mood swings, immense stubbornness through high school – she dealt with it all. We fought, she scolded me at times, she got upset with me on some occasions, but she never shut me down/cut me off or never gave up on me. There were days when we would have a big verbal fight and she would quietly walk away and go off to her art classes but when coming back she would always bring me “Monginis – Chicken Patty” and my favorite crackers. Unfortunately, this is one thing I never could adopt in my life, anyone and everyone who has hurt me ever I have always moved away from them slowly and quietly. I hardly am in touch with anyone from my side of the family – very Bollywood film like behavior I know but selfishly I just wanted to be happy without the human element of negativity. She was not at all like that – her main charm was she wanted to move forward with everyone together. She kept in touch with everyone, cared for everyone and wanted success for everyone.

When I decided to write up this chapter, I was sad as there is this big space in my life right now where I stand alone. And I am kind of scared of this loneliness. However, as I started to type out the chapter, I started feeling the joy, the warmth and remembering the time I have had with her makes me smile. She was different and charismatic. One thing I learnt from her was always get the best. She was very classy and going shopping with her was ultimate fun. She always knew even before we would step into the mall what she wanted and where she wanted it from. I am exactly like that. She never compromised on what she wanted, and she taught me well. When something seems extra ordinarily expensive, she taught me to be not extravagant but to save up for it and if its something I still wanted after I have saved up, I should get it. She taught me well to manage my finances but also to treat myself. The simple joys of buying yourself a “good job, you deserve it” gift was always high on her list.

You can spread joy and love how you want; you can be yourself and still be a good friend, a shoulder to cry on, a hand to hold on to and just an ear on the other side of the phone. She was all that and even more for me. She was my sounding board, my confidence booster, my crazy shopping buddy, my energy drink, my guide, my rainy-day friend and above all someone who was always there when I needed. I miss her, I miss everything about her, selfishly I miss her because now I have no one to just call and be myself.

Chapter 7: THE FEAR of expectations!

       Growing up in a Bengali joint family back in India, in the heart of Salt Lake – I came across a frequent visitor “expectation”. There she was absolutely and heavily head over heels involved in every aspect of my life. She would be there when you wake up, to how fast can you get ready for the day ahead, to what you want to be when you grow old to how you see yourself settled 90 years from then. 

  Recently I read the article of Serena William’s retirement and one paragraph particularly stuck with me: “Believe me, I never wanted to have to choose between tennis and a family. I don’t think it’s fair. If I were a guy, I wouldn’t be writing this because I’d be out there playing and winning while my wife was doing the physical labor of expanding our family. Maybe I’d be more of a Tom Brady if I had that opportunity. Don’t get me wrong: I love being a woman, and I loved every second of being pregnant with Olympia. I was one of those annoying women who adored being pregnant and was working until the day I had to report to the hospital—although things got super complicated on the other side. And I almost did do the impossible: A lot of people don’t realize that I was two months pregnant when I won the Australian Open in 2017. But I’m turning 41 this month, and something’s got to give” (Vogue, 2022). Expectations – through out our lives never prepares us for motherhood. The unconditional love, the undivided attention and to give my child the very best is a feeling that I really cannot describe in a blog. It was a true surprise for me. I often mix up expectation with “what if”. The fear of failing as a mother, not to be the very best “me” more than ever has engulfed my life today – all thanks to the world web.

The social media, the virtual society, and the interference of the internet in the private lives of ordinary people have fueled unrealistic expectations and the need to be recognized for absolutely everything. As I scroll through Instagram accounts, I see the definition of “achievement” has become something we do daily – pairing up a nice t-shirt with jeans (#dresstoimpress), drinking coffee (#beansforlife), first day of kindergarten (#hardworkpaysoff) etc. So where did I go wrong? Did not create an account while I was pregnant, so I am already too late. There should have been a post with the pee-stick, then some family surprise shots, then the baby-shower, the gender reveal (which is now a big balloon moment that every expecting mother must celebrate) and finally the birth. I know I rather sound a very critical person right now, please don’t get me wrong I love celebrations, I love parties, drinks, dance, food, and music. I just don’t see the point in advertising my life. However, in recent times I have been told advertising ordinary people’s lives have become one of the highest paying jobs. Its social media that is guaranteeing scholarships to kids, funding to organizations and driving up business. The pressure – the expectation of having an online presence is all sometimes kids are thinking about these days. Its not the fact that we must do well it’s the fact that we must project well in media whatever we do is the main target.

In this era of virtual expectation, I knew a woman who simply stood out virtually, in person, over the phone, everywhere for her simplicity. For me she redefined expectation “as anticipation to be the best version of yourself”. She cared about society as in how she can give back to it, not about their opinion. She loved her close ones and made sure the ones millions of miles away could feel her warmth. She not only stood up against anything that was wrong, but she also gave it her everything to make it right. She was a fashion icon, wrapped in beautiful sarees and she always carried herself with grace not for the media but for herself. She was well-versed, had a flair for Bengali language and when she spoke everyone listened. At the same time, she made sure she always heard everyone. She was strong, an entrepreneur, a teacher, a great baker, an adventurous traveler, an artist, a fighter, philanthropist, a guide, a grandmother, a friend and above all my “Mother” (I will soon write about our sweet and sour and Indian flavorful relationship in the next chapter). The world wide web could not really capture her on screen. The woman who created her own expectations, achieved them, and made the best out of them. I can never be her, but I want to at least live by her principles and hold up to her expectations of myself.

Reference: (Vogue, 2022) https://www.vogue.com/article/serena-williams-retirement-in-her-own-words

Chapter 6: Work life balance

For me life is work and work is life so to say according to my super critical judgmental eyes its always in balance. Now opinions do differ, and I respect and (not really) welcome other’s opinions. And that applies to both my work and my life.

It might sound super strange, but I have been working not to buy fancy brands, visit fancy destinations, or satisfying my dream but to fulfill my super hungry ego to keep achieving. My first job was at a call center in India. We had this idea made up in our head that call center jobs are easy jobs meant for young people who want to earn easy money, want to have a fake accent, call themselves by an American name and can sleep during the day and work all night. Boy oh boy! I was wrong and so wrong that I kind of embarrassed myself. Most of my colleagues were engineers. Yes, the only fact I got right was it was a batch of fairly young people. However, we did not work at night, nor did we have fake American/British names. We answered calls by our own names. Some of us shortened them as Indian names can take up the first 30 seconds of the introduction and by then you might have already confused the customer on whether he should try to address you by your name (which at that point he can’t even remember) or should he try explaining the issue he is having. I used to be part of the credit card team of a very popular bank. Oh yes and we did get trained in English speaking but not so that we can create fake accents but so that the customer could understand us. After all they were not really just calling us to do online shopping but discuss their financing options. We did get a call here and there that was odd but then again what fun if everything was according to the script in life. We had supervisors from the UK who were trying their level best to understand the Indian culture – like whether nodding the head side to side means a yes or a no? how Indian cinemas break into songs that are recorded in foreign locations for almost every occasion, and how we view the West. They had to be extremely careful before they could comment on anything religious or cultural however we were “bindaas” (bad ass – know it all attitude – like divorces are common there, its okay for everyone to smoke and drink etc).

  For me personally it was an eye-opening experience. This was my first time outside of the protective barriers that my dad and aunt had created. It was the perfect opportunity to test my limits and boundaries. To start it off I thought life is tough as I had to stay in this luxurious hotel with transport provided for by the company and all I had to worry about is what should I have for the next meal. Two weeks into the new role we were now asked to find some permanent accommodation and then came the real deal – I looked at nearly 40 apartments but criticized each. Some were not in the best of the best locations; some did not give me the good vibe. Finally, I found myself an apartment that was perfect. It was an apartment by itself on the floor of that building, had a supermarket downstairs and had a fifteen-minute commute to my office. Friends were all nearby, and food was absolutely great – my struggle was real “what can I say?” My work life was in perfect balance.

My next job was straight out of college in UK. It was my first real corporate job. Unlike my first job I was the only newcomer at the job and my colleagues there had been in their role for a solid 5-10 years. While I was a new graduate in my head eager to learn, I was viewed as a newcomer that could easily be blamed for anything going wrong by one of my mentors. I had a very rough start as I was not very used to office politics and was not aware that not just what you do but who you know (i.e., How high up in the organization you knew your bosses) gets you recognition and promotion. In my head I knew I just had to stick it out, its my career and I was not ready to quit because someone else felt it was convenient to do so. There were weekends when I was at work trying to learn excel modelling, creating workbooks that would help me add value and please my ego. I did have a great support from home specially as it was just across the road. However, no matter how much I look down on this part of my life – it helped us buy our first home, it taught me life-lessons that I did not welcome at all at that time but value more than anything today. Above all it taught me how self-respect is the most important thing. So, this work totally balanced my life.

This jump start to my career led me to the next 3 companies in which I grew as a person, employee and above all as a mother. We moved countries but unlike driving on the other side, gas and diesel interchanging their colors at the gas stations, “z” taking the place of “s” – office politics remained the same. To add there were so many new things that was introduced in the corporate affair – like Diversity and Inclusion, Remote working, and flexible hours. However, in my strong opinion unless your superiors liked you and that could be because of a variety of reasons – your work, how you conduct yourself, how far are you ready to accept responsibilities (extra projects on weekends, flexibility to travel at a few hours’ notice etc.) – you could totally kiss goodbye to going up the career ladder. I realized if I work hard and dedicate my life to the company I can go up and so I did. However, once I became responsible for another human being (calling me “mom”) I realized that the ladder I want to climb is that of happiness and I can only go up if I could get a perfect work life balance.

The word “perfect” was still the main driver. I was prepared with the day care of my choice before I gave birth. I knew how I wanted to phase myself back into work however I did not know I was going to move to another country, to an unknown nation within a year of meeting my little one. All the plans flew out of the window, and I wished Superman could bring them back. With the incomparable speed of Flash, I was losing control of my life. I was given a week to find a new day care in a new city before I joined back work. My commute to work went from 15 mins to 45 mins and I would be now almost an hour away from my one-year-old. I will not lie it was hard, very hard to start with but soon I realized I was super-efficient, the rate at which I was working, taking care of my baby and completing my MBA – all my life if I would have balanced everything like this, I would definitely been able to do two full time jobs simultaneously. A journey that started with a lot of frustration and desperation was slowly turning into a way of life. Though I did not know a soul in this new place except my son and husband, I started making acquaintances, they helped me navigate the US tax system, rank the American fast-food shops, select the doctor’s office, and above all get our first “Costco” card. Through my son I connected with the other Mothers in the same boat, and they welcomed me with open arms. When my son started a year later in a private school my group of angels grew even further. I did not have to hold off on any more going to wash room if I was running late, I knew friends who can just look out for extra 5 minutes. I knew these friends would even pick him up and take him home and feed him like their own if I get stuck in horrendous Bay Area traffic. I knew these angels were always looking out for us.

As a step up when I was going to take on a new challenge and which meant I will be 2/3hours away from my little one – it was time to meet our new angel. She was beautiful, drove a beamer, super smart, very courteous and a real estate agent. I had rejected almost all the nannies that I had met till I met her. She was amazing and my son immediately connected with her. She just wanted to help, and I was glad we met. We made friends for life. I cannot imagine my son without her. She was there at 3am when I had to travel for work, and she was there at 9pm when I was stuck at work. She was even there at midnight – before my son’s birthday so that all the décor looked perfect, and she could surprise him. This angel was selfless and so caring that she soon became family for us that helped me balance my work and life perfectly.

I cannot write a chapter on balancing my work and life without writing about my life, my son. Yes, we pampered him, yes, we showered him with love and toys and yes, we scolded him and taught him how not to repeat mistakes – he taught me the biggest lesson of my life. He taught me love is unconditional from the very first time I saw him. No matter if I was picking him up late from the day care or missed taking him to the park as I was stuck in a conference call, everytime I was there he would run up to me with a smile. Every time till this day if I am worried or stressed he would come and hug me and ask me “Are you okay Mamma? I know everything will be alright”. I don’t know if I was a holy sage, or I was a missionary in my last life that God gifted me such an angel. While nothing is perfect, he is and he makes my work and life balance out perfectly.

Chapter 5 : F.R.I.E.N.D.S

“So no one told you life was going to be this way.

Your job’s a joke, you’re broke, you’re love life’s DOA.

It’s like you’re always stuck in second gear,

Well, it hasn’t been your day, your week, your month, or even your year.

But, I’ll be there for you, when the rain starts to pour.

I’ll be there for you, like I’ve been there before.

I’ll be there for you, cause you’re there for me too…”

My favorite TV series of all time. I enjoyed it growing up, I enjoy it with my son, and I am sure I will enjoy it while growing old. As I had mentioned before I never had anything Bengali in me (that’s highly my opinion) except being a fan of Dada, so while growing up my friends had dreams of being a scholar, scientist, doctor, engineer, working for the big $$$$$ and leading a philanthropic life. I wanted to report wars and don’t know when while I was fighting the battle with the middle-class Bengali attitude of mine, I had a secret dream to become a stand-up comedian. I still do. I knew even if no one turns up my three musketeers will. One will have a gala moment at the bar before the performance and will laugh louder than I speak, the second one will judge and give me feedback on where to improve while my third musketeer will be so proud of me to be doing what I love.

          My first musketeer – my friend from school, have known each other since we were 5. There was so much in common between us (only thing now I can remember is us being an only child – no siblings) and at the same time we were so different (as I said I can recollect there was only one thing common, however this line is perfect for the flow of this introduction so let me use it). In India, where competition is utmost and for everything from getting your first tooth to coming first in university, our friendship was unique. I competed with the whole world including myself but with her. She would fall in and out of love at the speed of Michael Phelps’s freestyle and then we would share a deep moment recollecting and crossing off boys that are not at all up to her standard. I knew when I would stand up on the podium trying to entertain the crowd through my jokes she would whistle, Clap, and cheer so loudly that the audience will be compelled to follow her. I also know that her cheers are not driven by my hilarious jokes but the bottles of hard liquor that she got entertained by before my ultimate performance.

          My second musketeer – friend from college, with whom I am still very close to. We share a laugh over Facetime if we can catch each other over the two continents, we always check up on each other when natural calamities and Pandemic numbers grow in our countries, and we chat. That’s the simplicity of our relationship. We shared a very special year in our Masters. While I was still struggling to find myself in a new country, she was always there for me, whether driving me back in her red Beemer or joining us for our first housewarming or be it the first one to visit me when my son was born. Okay, to be honest she not only was there in my happiest moments, but she was like a true friend there when I needed some one the most and without any question. She swooped in when I was spending my birthday alone to take me out for dinner, she lend me her shoulder to cry on when I was going through a very rough time in college. She made me the best upside-down fruit cakes and taught me how to whip cream. She is for me the best baker who can create a recipe that will make your negative emotions positive.

          My third musketeer – he is super handsome, super witty and extremely loveable. I have known him since his birth and we have had this weird connection where we did not really have to tell each other what we are feeling, we just know. There are days when his hug is all I need and there are days when his anger makes most sense. Then there are days when we fight and there are days when we sit in the couch and eat Cheetos while watching something utterly silly. It’s funny since he always praises me and at the same time pushes me to test out my limits. Our likes and dislikes are very different, but we somehow enjoy each other’s company. Okay this whole life chapter is from my perspective so hard luck if he does not feel like this as I am putting it down in words, this is what everyone is going to read and know.

          All the three musketeers have been there for me at different stages in life. They are not friends out of “Three Idiots” (or Gossip Girl as reference to my non-Indian friends). They never tried to change me instead they challenged me. They held my hands at times and pushed me when it was needed. They let me cry out when times were hard but also cried out loud when I had it too easy. I had introduced you to my machines before and now meet my people.

 Chapter 4: Twinkle Twinkle Little stars….

Ok let’s step out of the darkness and great wisdom of the last chapter. With two pegs of my favorite Whiskey, I am ready to share the biggest joy of my life. 

Work gave me confidence and confidence gave me hope. Hope to dream big and finally to take a huge decision for the next step of my life. Me who hardly understood myself somehow was convinced that I could be responsible for another human being who would be dependent on me till the time comes when I will be dependent on him. No, I am not talking about hubby, after this point in life I have never ever even had a chance to talk or think about anyone but the twinkle twinkle little star who brightened our lives forever.

I loved kids forever. I never introduced this side of me so let me spend a few lines this paragraph to bring forward the child in me. I loved babysitting my friend’s kids, playing with them, dancing with them, putting them to sleep – everyone thought I was natural at it. To an extent I was, since I myself was still a kid at heart and even now I feel like one. One thing no one realized that I was great with the twinkle twinkle little stars of the other galaxies but was still in a black hole and lost when it came to mine.

I was not at all a natural at motherhood, but I till date say the best time of my life was when I was pregnant. Even before the tests came positive in fact my google-struck (he would google everything and hand me information) doctor was in denial that I am pregnant, I knew I am. My colleagues at office, my friends and family in UK were super supportive. Finally, I felt I was important as everyone would ask me how I felt, I would get a seat in over-crowded sweaty trains, I would be allowed to sit in the front seats of a bus, board and get-off the bus first. I loved it; the best thing was 12 other associates were pregnant in our office at the same time. The twinkle twinkle little stars were going to brighten up so many lives.

I did everything by the book. Being a person who hardly looked after oneself – I became extremely conscious. Long walks, decaf drinks, healthy fruits, lots of water and frequent bathroom trips were all regularly crossed off my checklist. I started feeling like the Queen of the bathroom at one point as I was there throwing up early morning to frequent piss trips every so often. Among things that changed were body weight and my confidence. No prize for guessing, both increased. I was working hard but at the same time my life seemed to have a purpose – shopping for the one I have never meant. I had no idea for a human that was going to be 6lbs and 2oz I needed the world. From designing and painting his room, to checking out 15-18 strollers to buying cots, swings, bottle sets, playmates – you name it and I had it already except for preparing myself for what was going to come. For me he was still this twinkle twinkle little star that would come into my world and just be perfect.

My belief was so strong that I decided to start my MBA when I was six months pregnant. I had my hormones telling me “You got this” – and I flew with them. I applied and got accepted to one the best schools. I was working during day, got promoted to a new role, taking long walks in the evening, visiting the doctor by myself, studying at night and shopping 24/7. I felt like the twinkle twinkle little stars were aligned like they were when Raj met Simran (for those who don’t know Raj and Simran they are Romeo and Juliet of modern Bollywood movies).

The strange thing as I write about it today is I always referred to the baby as “he”. No gender reveal party, but a close intimate baby shower with the closest friends. It was one perfect evening; in fact, it was so perfect, and I got showered with so many beautiful gifts that my baby could not wait anymore till due date. A week later, on Diwali my waters broke but due to very low dilation I was admitted in the hospital next day for induction. In the midst of this, with my confidence still going strong, I managed to complete my appraisal and do some last minute handover meetings at work, crossing the ‘t’s and dotting the ‘i’s. After being 2 days and 3 hours in labor which somehow also was perfect except my impatience and may be the bit of the pain towards the very end, I met him the twinkle twinkle little star who was going to shape me for who I am today.

I know by now you must be thinking I am probably like play doh as first my family, then my academics, my hubby, my machines and now my baby is molding me. I will be honest; I am still jealous of mothers that connect with their babies immediately. I did not. For me the feeling that instantly kicked in was not love but protection. After being 2 days in labor I was supposed to be knocked out, so the midwives kept checking on me throughout the night if I was able to hear him and feed him when needed. However, I was so protective that I did not even keep him down. For twelve straight hours I held him in my arms and kept looking at him. After all he was my twinkle twinkle little star.

Once I brought him home in the car seat, there started another anxious moment of “What now?” Till now everything was in the books, and in the hands of the doctors. However, now it was my turn to be responsible. “Hold on a moment, other than being responsible for budgets of millions of dollars, I have not been responsible for a human that really cannot express what he wants……. What now?” Now was the time for ultimate freak show by me. I would dial 999 (911 if you are reading this in US and 100 if in India – wishful thinking I already suspect my blog has gone viral worldwide) for every little thing – he hiccups, he has temperature, he is teething so has ear infection. I wanted the national guard on standby for my twinkle twinkle little star.

I gradually started bonding and understanding what he wants from me. We bonded over “Sheila ki jawani” (Very much “Jalebi baby” of this era… funny we dance to Jalebi baby every time it comes on while we are in the car or watching TV), we bonded over funny You-tube videos, we bonded on days that were so gloomy and rainy that I could not take him out so just hugged him close to me. One main thing we bonded over was chicken. My hubby is vegetarian, but we wanted our baby to try everything and somehow his favorite baby food was anything with chicken.

The ultimate freak test came when I had to drop him off at the day care for the first time. I knew I wanted to do it alone, I knew I will have to be strong, and I knew I can do it. It was a tough day I went back to work, and everyone knew better than to ask me anything but about the baby, I could not wait for the clock to show me the time to pick him up. Strangely enough when I did go to pick him up, he was lying on a floor mat super happy and babbling away. The first thing the ladies at the day care said to me was that he has adjusted very well and pooped quite a bit (a sign he was comfortable according to them, I knew I had something common with the English as this is how I judge my hotel stays). I was happy he was happy but somewhere in my heart I felt my 5-month-old baby is not any more a twinkle twinkle little star but someone I am going to eternally love, discipline, cherish, lose my cool on, respect and go crazy for always.

Okay I need to really keep a check on this over-sensitive Moma as she can totally write an entire book cover to cover on her twinkle twinkle little star so we will return to talking about my prince after I introduce you to a few more personalities that danced, sung, cried, fought, laughed, and freaked out with me as I drove through the sharp corners and climbed the steep hills of my life. I promise though I will have a chapter on how life changed and shaped me as a mother from his first birthday till date and how I still cannot believe sometimes I sing twinkle twinkle little star to myself to bring me joy and peace.

Chapter 3: “I can’t, no, I won’t hush” – Ed Sheeran

          This chapter is coming out on a day that I am running low on supplies, no not ink, paper, cartridge etc. but my beloved drink for my second peg. So, I am going to write about the not so happening part of my life a little dark but a very “AHA…” moment.

Just to recap my machines and my job became a huge part of my life. However, life was not always a cup of hot chocolate topped with whipped cream, but it was in fact most of the time smoked whiskey on the rocks. Professionally, I started learning, growing and achieving quite a bit to start with. I liked the office, the competition and the attention of corporate life.

          I enjoyed work, yes you read it right. I enjoyed working late hours, weekends, holidays…you ask something of me, and I am there. The thrill of achieving and getting recognized and staying away from the dark hours at home made it a very lucrative package for me. Yes, so let’s venture into my personal life. I married the man of my dreams and yes everything seemed perfect till the first day we moved into our first rented apartment in the UK.

          It was a beautiful cottage, very small but cozy and very cold. The heater did not work for the first couple of days. I thought that was romantic, but the man of the house was not happy. I was so dumb that I really thought life was going to be fun, films, travel and adventure. My brain could not even come to terms with the fact that I was supposed to behave like a lady while the friends I grew up with were hanging out at college campuses, having PJ nights and working towards building their dream career. In the beginning when things were not in the right place, when he would be away for weeks, I would throw massive tantrums, I would call him so much, I would beg him to not go or take me with him. He would on occasions let me accompany him.

          Life was becoming different; it felt like I was not up to everyone’s standards/expectations. Having been born as an only child I was spoilt rotten so I would more than often speak up “I can’t, no, I won’t hush” (Ed Sheeran). The consequence I guess it should not be a surprise, I lost it all.

My family wanted to live under the false pretense that they have got me married abroad and nothing better could have happened to my life. So, they outright refused to even listen that anything was wrong. It was however not all downhill. We would occasionally have great days, would walk the streets of London, would laugh it out over a bottle of wine, eat at Domino’s pizza and chill in front of the TV. Then it would be followed by arguments, door-slamming, shouting, hurting each other, and more than often being left alone. I could never get it right. I somehow had a strong belief at that time if I shout louder, I will be heard, and my voice will bring everything back to track. I was so desperate to live my dream that I would often wander at night thinking what can I do to make it how I wanted it, “I can’t, no, I won’t hush” (Ed Sheeran).

          Finally, when I finished my first Masters and went into a full-time job, things started to look a little brighter. Seemed like life was ready to accept me for who I was. However, I knew deep down I had completely changed. Except the hunger to go up the career ladder, the fun, stupid, “dream-big-or-go-home” perfectionist was nowhere to be found anymore. I would struggle with myself time and again as the fun part would try to come out and all I would do is tell myself, “You have to work really hard, don’t focus on anything as the pain will disappear one day.” Life was mundane but I liked the routine – office to home and back to office. To contain myself my ultimate entertainment was a drive and life was simple. That’s when my machines stood by me and made me complete and gave me a new hope of a path that was winding but when travelled lead to serenity and peace.

As you would have guessed by now, my life has been immensely influenced by Bollywood and today after writing this piece I am thinking of reaching out to Tapsee Pannu (comparable to Blake Lively), Kangana Ranawat (comparable to a Julia Roberts, I don’t think she will agree) and director Madhur Bhandarkar (comparable to directors who bring forth women issues … like men have none…. totally off topic) to transform this into a revolting 2021 “JAAGO NAARI” (rise of women power) movie.

          Anyways jokes aside, while speaking up at home was viewed as argument by parents, cousins and the near & dear ones. Speaking up at work and challenging the set ways was what brought me closer to what I viewed as success. I was novice at both as I mentioned earlier, I never had to raise my finger to get anything before this stage of my life than just competing at academic institutions. However, instead of “I can’t, no, I won’t hush” (Ed Sheeran) I learnt to articulate my thoughts and numb my emotionally over-sensitive feelings to cloud my path of life.

Chapter 2: Driving on the left again!

Okay let’s rewind the fast-forward scene from the last chapter. We got married total Bollywood style – both families unsure (sure it will not work) but happy to support. I had secured some college places in UK and soon after the rituals were over, flew across to the other side of the world. On the Christmas Day I landed in the Queen’s land to start a new life.

Lucky me! The most familiar sight was that driving was still on the left. However, I ran out of familiarities right after that. I never thought I will miss the scary canines from our Indian streets, the variety of horns ranging from the rickshaw drivers to the trucks, the sound of pressure cookers going off in every house, to the basic sight of another homo sapiens.

 I would pick up the intercom phone to hear the leaves rustle outside and numerous boots stomping on the ground in the morning hours of passers-by heading to work. Nope, they would not speak like they did in India. No Shyamala Chachi from next door asking, “Why so early, did you pick up an extra shift?” or Raja da from down the street, huffing and puffing running towards you with a packet of  Jalebis and a big grin across his sweaty face, “Today I ran a lot to and from the house, I think this would help me get in shape and to keep my sugar level from dropping too much I need at least 5 of these fresh Jalebis for breakfast!” For the five out of the six and a half years I spent in the UK I did not even see my neighbors. That’s when I started learning to drive on the left side again.

I had an international driving license, but as we know it was as authentic as Benarasi Sarees sold on amazon. I started taking lessons – narrow roads, icy weather and strict rules. On top of that Indians as always anywhere in the world spreading gossips just to pull other Indians down. They would tell me scary stories about how the English police would torture you even if you just scratched another car. I owe so much to England and the third on the list was its gift to let me drive. Since I started driving, it has given me independence, a sense of flying, a sense of changing direction, and being in control at the same time. Sometimes I would wonder how many looks and touches by the so-called pervert uncles I could have avoided in the Kolkata buses if only I knew well to drive on the left side.

Let me take you through the machines I have had so far. My first car was more like my dad – tall (long), strong, stubborn and grey (Ford Mondeo). The second car was more like my hubby – short (compact), cute, and silver grey (Honda Jazz). The third one was like my Economics teacher – perfect height, very balanced and powerful (VW Passat). The fourth one was like my son – my baby, good looking (red-vermillion), extremely reliable, talk of the town, powerful and smooth (BMW X3). The fifth one was Tesla; I do not know anyone like that other than Barry Allen – The Superhero Flash.  The sixth one exactly like my aunt – very caring and smooth, at the same time with a big heart and never blue (actually blue) (Lexus RX 450). These machines have played a huge role to shape me the way I am – strong, fast, competitive and extremely emotional while driving on the left and the right side of life.

Sorry, when it comes to driving, I do get diverted and always feel the need to introduce the important characters – my machines. So, let’s take a U-turn back to the Buckingham palace. We moved three houses while in the UK, the last one being an apartment that was our first home together that we could call our own. My college life in the UK was exciting and stressful. Unlike India I made friends, and with one I am super close even today. She has been there from our very first house, to my son’s birth to wishing me well on every occasion and been a shoulder when I needed it most. The UK college days added a lot of value to practical learning unlike our traditional Vedas that we are forced to gulp down in India. So, I ended up doing not one but two Masters degree from UK. I am hesitant to say though both these degrees shaped my career, but the Indian Bachelor’s is what kicked start my career to drive and glide on the left side.

I had been working for a year at a job straight after my first college and I got an opportunity from a recruiter friend to go interview with a big Pharma company. Me being a Bengali and massively in love with my voice blew the interview (at least that’s what I thought) by talking very negatively about outsourcing to India only ending the interview to learn that they had just completed a billion dollar transfer to a company in my hometown Kolkata. I shook the manager’s hand and politely but quickly left the premises. I got a very surprising call the next afternoon with a job offer. Later I learned the Head of Finance had shared my resume with our VP of Sales as she is also from my birth city and according to her as I made it into the college of dreams for millions (not mine – remember) I should be able to handle anything. I landed a dream job that helped me get my first machine to drive on the left side.

Small things can bring great happiness. Like Sunshine in the UK helps Indians get out of depression (no offence – it really helped me). My job with this Pharma company – made me more responsible, showed me how hard work always gets recognized and how recognition drove me to give more. I was not only working to go up in the career which I thought was always something that drove me, but I got involved with so many different projects that impacted patient lives directly. I know, I know I sound like one of the ideal bahoos of Ekta Kapoor, but I really felt inside me a huge relief to work for this company knowing how much it was giving back and connecting with patients. Though I very much grew up in a profit/loss environment being from a middle class but since then till now salary/bonus does not really drive me on either the left or right side of my life.

Work became life and life was just filled with work. We used to enjoy shopping at ASDA on Friday nights so that I could park in an empty lot and not end up in prison for scratching another car while parking. We would spend the Holidays with my cousins in Wolverhampton, I would shop business at NEXT and Debenhams and we would go to London to walk around on alternate weekends. London – now that city is super close to heart, as soon as the trains would slowly move into the Waterloo Station the heart was filled with warmth and excitement. The warmth got warmer with the Pret-A-manager’s hot chocolate croissant and a Costa coffee. I have heard that’s how one feels when they go back home except no one really must pay to use the washroom like we did while visiting London. So other than literally money down the drains, life was really smiling at me while driving on the left side again.

Chapter 1: Life is but Perfect!

To be perfect in life was my dream. Whether be it in school, extra-curricular activities, dressing up for parties, hosting parties, each moment of my life was spent to make it perfect. And we all know when we try too hard for something, we either achieve it or we completely lose direction and end up somewhere we had not planned for at all.

As a 9-year-old Kolkata born, a big middle-class/overachiever joint family’s fourth among seven brother’s only child, I faced the first perfect imperfection of my life. My mom, my best friend, my closest pal, my dance partner, my scariest teacher, my world-best chef decided life was too painful to handle and left me to deal with my fears, set my goals and find my way in this life “my perfect way”. I cried for two days, lived with my aunt for a month, answered odd questions and stared down odd looks from friends, neighbors, and relatives, and missed her for the rest of my life. However, after the first month I was back at it again, to make my life perfect. I never cried in front of my dad ever since, I never ever made him feel I missed her. My eldest aunt “Mamma” bravely took up the role of my mom. I was always close to her, but we started bonding a whole lot more like a mother-daughter. She had to teach me about periods, face my teenage tantrums, bear my mood swings, and finally help me with my newborn. So, after my perfect life train almost derailed it seemed to have been fueled by some positive energy and speeding across the empty platforms as planned. I always worked to be the best and finally I was a topper in my class, became the head-girl of my school and even got good results to get into college.

Life was finally looking up, or was I still dreaming of my favorite Shahrukh Khan movie where he travels across Europe with his lady love with no money and baggage but still looks amazing in brand new designer clothes every day. Yes, it was time for the next perfect moment to blow through my life. I had a plan about my career, I mean why not I had a plan about which pen I would use each day of the week so definitely I had the entire blueprint with a timeline typed up for my career. I did get through the college of dreams for many (not mine) with a subject desirable by many (not me). The three years at college were anything but exciting. I went through each day like an athlete trains with heavy tires with the goal to build strength for the final day, though it was heavy and burdensome the athlete knows he has to push through and once the exercise is over the tire lies there in heat and sun with no emotional attachment. While I felt like a sore loser, this college of dreams for millions but mine was getting ready to stamp and design my so-called perfect career.

So, the first twist, since I was having such a great time at the college, I really needed a focus in my life and the newly found online chat rooms provided the ultimate space for that. I had till then never done anything out of the norm of a middle-class geeky Bengali family’s daughter except I never wore Indian traditional clothes, I did not have any close friends who were females, I hated fish, I scraped my knees all day long playing “pittoo” (a traditional Indian street game of piling up uneven marble stones and then knocking them over with a tennis ball only to rebuild it again as a team joint effort), I wanted to cover wars and crime-scenes on television and I could not properly read or write Bengali. One thing though that was very Bengali in me was I was a huge fan of Dada (Sourav Ganguli, then India’s cricket captain), his care-free attitude, him flaunting his bare Bengali (strictly rosogulla-Bengali sweet and lamb curry) abs in Lords, his aggressiveness in the field and his passion for something he wanted made him quite perfect in my eyes.

Back to the chat rooms, never knew an online dial up network would set me up for a “unlimited don’t dream only do – LIFETIME plan”. I met my “Rahul – naam to yaad rahega na” at one of the rooms. We got to chatting everyday and eventually decided to meet and before we knew we had already been planning our far from perfect life together. Fast-forward next couple of years – we got married, had a home in England, I completed my first Master’s and was in my first job. That’s when the neat whiskey moments with my office laptop walked into my life and they were forever to stay!

Cheers to an almost perfect life!