tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-78563420714571138962024-03-14T01:08:17.038+05:30Shaurya's ChroniclesShaurya's Chronicleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17597205740465528015noreply@blogger.comBlogger50125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7856342071457113896.post-16205420256424216992019-12-03T20:23:00.000+05:302019-12-03T20:24:06.073+05:30Mowgli - The Little Bundle of Joy<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: right;">
<i><span style="background: white; font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">‘If having a soul means being able to feel love
and loyalty and gratitude, then animals are better off than a lot of humans.’- </span></span></i><i><span style="background: white; font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">James
Herriot</span></span></i></blockquote>
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<span style="background: white; color: #222222; font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">This post introduces another member to the
Midha family – Mowgli, our pet dog. <br /><br /><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">We, as a family were divided when Shaurya began
insisting on getting a pup. His Da’Ma was dead against the idea and kept
dissuading him. His dad stood a neutral ground and I wasn’t really a dog lover
myself either but as a mother I could see that Shaurya really needed one. He pleaded
and begged for it several times and even if I wasn’t totally comfortable with
the idea, I decided to give in. Shaurya hardly ever demands anything and once he
promised to look after the dog, I gave in my consent, hoping that a pet shall allow
Shaurya an opportunity to feel a sense of responsibility and ownership towards
another being and shall help in his emotional development.<br /><br /><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Shaurya took an active interest and scheduled
calls to speak with a dog behaviourist. He looked up videos on the Internet and
his research was instrumental in helping us decide on the breed and zeroing
down on other specifics and accessories. We allowed Shaurya to pick the crate, bedding
and the toys for the dog and gave his solemn word about doing all chores for
the pup when he arrived. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">He let me pick a name and I was happy to
finally zero down on ‘Mowgli’ from Kipling’s Jungle Book. <br /><br /><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Mowgli arrived on Feb 9, 2019 at 5:30 AM. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br />I vividly remember that it was a cold winter
morning when the bell rang and the breeder walked in and announced “Here is
your pup”. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We struggled to see where it
was before finding this little ball of black fur camouflaged in a black jacket
curled up and barely raising its head. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br />Mowgli came to us when he was 55 days old and could
barely walk on the marble floor. The breeder fed him before handing it over and
Shaurya sat there awestruck and openmouthed, trying to absorb all relevant details
knowing that he was required to take over everything. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br />Shaurya was unwilling to go to school that day
and took Mowgli to the terrace to play and spend some time in the sunlight with
his little bundle of joy. Mowgli has since been treated like a baby and it was
only a matter of time before he won us all over and we as a family ended up
giving all our free time to this naughty, little poodle<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br />As a parent, I could see how vital this
decision has been to your personality, Shaurya and I am glad that we gave you
this opportunity to entrust another living being to your care. You suddenly were
all responsible and channelized all your energies towards him. The subtle ways
in which you convinced us all to keep a pet and getting Da’ma to stay in the
same house with him, often protecting him from her anger at times sure needed a
lot of dedication. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br />I accepted Mowgli and have become accustomed to
his presence in the house because of you and the training you gave to us. I am
sure with time we shall have more stories to share about Mowgli. For now, I
feel nothing but love for both of you and am proud at how well you have turned
out and for all your commitment towards Mowgli. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br /></div>
Himanshu Tandonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06937412044722956222noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7856342071457113896.post-36920935221973133102017-03-05T15:38:00.007+05:302017-03-05T15:46:06.508+05:30Turning 10<blockquote> <p align="right"><font color="#c0504d">"Time flies over us, but leaves its shadows behind" <br />Nathaniel Hawthorne</font></p> </blockquote> <p>It seems my posts on this blog are an annual event now, but I am still glad I have been able to write these birthday notes to Shaurya. Maybe one day he will cherish reading these with as much love as I feel in my heart, when writing them. </p> <p>This year my baby turned full ten years and it seems like time grew wings and just flew by and I have been left wondering standing by the shore and watching the waves in a trance. It seems just like yesterday when I had him in my arms and now he doesn't even fit into my lap. At times I crave to have more of him and wonder at these strange ways of life as it changes everything around us before we can even blink.</p> <p>Before I get any more emotional, let me share details about his special day. We hosted Shaurya’s tenth birthday party on the terrace with his close friends, cousins and family. January 8 fell on a Sunday this year and the flip side to this day was that we couldn’t manage to get hold of his school friends. His spirits were further dampened by the fact that there weren’t any boys of his age group in our family and friend circle either and eventually there were more girls in the party and they all wanted to play house and other girly games that he didn’t quite wish to participate in. Let me admit here, that it was indeed funny to see him wanting to do different things and it dawned upon me that it is only a matter of time that he will have more mature tastes and choice of sports and adventure activities. It is a very complicated feeling to describe personally as it wells me up as a mother and makes me kind of proud and anxious at the same time. </p> <p>Coming back to the party, the kids were all excited as soon as they got in. Shaurya loved his batman birthday cake and we got his favorite south Indian food from a caterer who setup his small open kitchen on the terrace and served it hot. The elders relished it alike and it surprisingly went well with the drinks and other snacks. Thankfully, the weather gods were kind and even though light showers were predicted, it stayed bright and sunny and a joyous winter afternoon to be out sitting under the Sun. </p> <p><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-rp0nEyWxd74/WLvjsijLyDI/AAAAAAAAA3k/qIq4mfwEuek/s1600-h/Jan%25252008%252520-%252520Shaurya%252527s%252520Birthday%25255B6%25255D.jpg"><img title="Shaurya's Birthday 2017" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; padding-right: 0px" border="0" alt="Shaurya's Birthday 2017" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ty9nTNCU_kA/WLvjt6SzfrI/AAAAAAAAA3o/324zWl8sRHg/Jan%25252008%252520-%252520Shaurya%252527s%252520Birthday_thumb%25255B3%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="641" height="500" /></a></p> <p>The party continued till the evening and once everyone went back and I settled down after the necessary winding up and cleaning, I decided to make a few resolutions on this day. I guess I will include those in my little note to you my son.</p> <p><em>Dear Shaurya,</em></p> <p><em>Let me wish you a very Happy Birthday once again and happy pre-adoloscence to you. This year marks your beginning into a different realm. There will be new challenges to accept and new goals to achieve with every passing day. As your parents, your dad and I have been doing all we can to shield you from certain hardships and provide for you the best of comforts and convenience. </em></p> <p><em>With this year, I want you to start feeling a little more responsible and accountable for your life and the time you spend. I need you to know that this life that you have been accustomed to is a previlege and there are millions of children in this world who do not have the luxury of a full meal during the day and live in fear under dangerous conditions. I want you to become cognizant of the world as it stands and start working towards setting up your own benchmarks on how you wish to contribute back to this life and world.</em></p> <p><em>On your birthday, I resolve that I will try and spend more time with you over this year (even if we are together for most part of the day) and will try and make you do a little more with the time you have. </em></p> <p><em>I will allow you to have your own say and will try and respect your decisions (with due safeguards as a parent, of course) and will encourage you to voice your opinion and will seek your point of view on matters that affect family as a whole. I resolve that I will ensure that you cultivate the confidence to be able to share your opinion when asked for and will check that while doing so, you do not disrespect or hurt someone’s feelings. </em></p> <p><em>I resolve to respect your privacy but at the same time, I will expect you to not be self absorbed and neglect your parents. I look forward to the time you come and sit with me and share your experiences at school and bring your problems for me to look at. While I understand that you will get busy with your own life, I hope that you do not overlook my need of your attention and time. </em></p> <p><em>And last but not the least, this year I wish to get your hand and feet imprints on clay. Don’t ask me why? I guess I just like the idea of being able to hold onto this still tender age of yours (even though your foot size is as big as mine and your hands are as big as Geeta masi)</em></p> <p><em>As I said before dear, time has wings. No one knows what the next day will bring and no matter what our life allows us, I want you to know as your parents, we will always try and be there as much as we can and will support you no matter in which direction you decide to fly and soar.</em></p> <p><em>I wish you all the strength in your journey this point forward. Rise and shine my son, I will always love you the way I always have. </em></p> <p><em>God Bless.</em></p>Shaurya's Chronicleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17597205740465528015noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7856342071457113896.post-44474806115092822662016-07-20T23:00:00.002+05:302016-07-21T14:32:12.608+05:30Shaurya’s Birthday - 2016<blockquote> <p align="justify"><font color="#c0504d">You may have outgrown my lap already but not my heart.. </font></p> </blockquote> <p align="justify">I will begin by wishing you a very Happy Birthday once again. <br />Between the last year and this, I may have never made another post, but maybe your birthday is a secret promise that I made to myself and I will never stop saving the memories of this special day as long as I live. </p> <p align="justify">Dear Shaurya,</p> <p align="justify">You turned 9 on January 8th this year and as much as I want you to turn out to be a handsome, young, responsible man, a part of me will always want you to be the little baby, I could so lovingly hold in my little lap. But then time and tide wait for none and so looking back at the year that just went by and flipping through the various Sports Days, Annual Days, Assemblies, Get-togethers and your 'being - naughty' days my heart swells with joy and pride looking at how you have progressed in the last 365 days.</p> <p align="justify">Talking about your birthday now, this year it was a quiet affair. We went out for a dinner and were joined by your friend Parshvi. I thought it would be a nice change for you if I take you to fine dining instead of your much loved pizza places in town and that you may enjoy the experience. But, I think I should have known better as just fifteen minutes into placing the order, we realized that there is only a limited time that little monkeys can be contained.</p> <p align="justify"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Be0-s14xV3U/V5CKGdFL7LI/AAAAAAAAA2A/lP2Tlm4v3qYKidNkZEFWL3f1Qp6fKCdpgCHM/s1600-h/Shaurya%2BBirthday%2B2015%255B5%255D"><img title="Shaurya Birthday 2015" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin: 0px 10px 5px 0px; display: inline; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px" border="0" alt="Shaurya Birthday 2015" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-rhxtK_8X2KM/V5CKHuQOG2I/AAAAAAAAA2E/3LKBp45zkq0bmBNbcqTFh_BLn7bOs3b4wCHM/Shaurya%2BBirthday%2B2015_thumb%255B3%255D?imgmax=800" width="604" height="432" /></a></p> <p align="justify">You and Parshvi decided to be your cutest, naughtiest best and started giggling for no apparent reason. Parshvi, I am sure will grow up to be a comic queen as she decided to make you laugh and started making funny sounds. Your giggles turned into guffaws and they were finally uncontrollable. It was amazing to see you two little kids create so much mayhem at a quiet restaurant, where people were having closed dinners and were forced to turn around to see you two kids having their share of fun oblivious of anyone and everyone around. I wouldn't say that we were embarassed by it all but definitely wanted to bring some silence back to the table but then we allowed you to be absorbed in your little game. It was your special day and you were entitled to enjoy it any way you wanted. </p> <p align="justify">It was good to see you laughing freely and I learnt how important it was to not curb it. The otherwise monotonous birthday celebration was suddenly full of mirth and joy all around. The jocund company of you two kids finally touched us elders too and we also got involved in your games and antics. </p> <p align="justify">The innocence that reflected in your merriment touched everyone alike and I think it is only apt that I end this post by making this little wish… "May you retain this innocence my angel, as there is nothing greater than holding the little joys in life. May you  enjoy the company of friends and may Lord help you pick your friends wisely and together you may conquer this big, bad world"</p> <p align="justify"><strong><font color="#c0504d">A very HAPPY BIRTHDAY once again, son.</font></strong></p>Shaurya's Chronicleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17597205740465528015noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7856342071457113896.post-2815200707108402132015-04-15T20:00:00.000+05:302015-04-15T20:16:18.404+05:30The Hiatus, Return and The Birthday Boy<p>It’s been nearly eighteen months since I last made a post. Seems I took longer than a sabbatical and Shaurya has changed and matured over the course of this hiatus. I think I owe a few quick posts to make up for this lost time and document all changes that Shaurya underwent and his journey and experiences over this period.  </p> <p>I guess the best post to start this year and resume the blog would be a post about his birthday. This year we decided to have a proper celebration and organized a small party for him at the India Habitat Center, Delhi. </p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-PfiShBRmOyk/VS51vquEZxI/AAAAAAAANco/0Zw34GmMEmw/s1600-h/IMG_20150108_1247045.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: block; float: none; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin-left: auto; border-left-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" title="IMG_20150108_124704" border="0" alt="IMG_20150108_124704" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-EuG3y6PNbBw/VS51ySl7v8I/AAAAAAAANcw/jKn7ICf3_Yg/IMG_20150108_124704_thumb3.jpg?imgmax=800" width="462" height="480" /></a></p> <p>Unlike other kids I have come across, Shaurya prefers playing Football over Cricket and it has become his favorite sport over the years. With time, he has started voicing his demands and likes more assertively and wanted a Football themed birthday party for his special day and we gave in to his wishes.</p> <p><img style="border-right-width: 0px; margin: 0px 10px 0px 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="IMG-20150110-WA0018" border="0" alt="IMG-20150110-WA0018" align="left" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-ZnnHRap0a40/VS510Il52yI/AAAAAAAANc4/DEdrdG42qlc/IMG20150110WA00185.jpg?imgmax=800" width="201" height="240" /> Invitations were sent out and there was a nice small gathering of little brats, playing and jumping around. The cake too, was in the shape of a football and Shaurya, in particular was very excited and happy to see it. </p> <p>We hired a game organizer and host for his party, who managed the little gathering well, inviting and motivating the kids for little props and games that he had setup. Shaurya perhaps thought since it was his special day, he was entitled to win all games and was upset and started crying and refused to participate when he lost a game. </p> <p>Though as a mother, I didn’t wish Shaurya to be upset on his birthday but then I couldn’t just be partial and give Shaurya an undue advantage in a game. I had to step in and let Shaurya know that one needs to earn a prize in a game and he should be fair and accept his defeat gracefully if he lost. I guess, he understood what I wanted to convey and was fine soon after. </p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-DUAdc-JpS2k/VS511jfhdEI/AAAAAAAANdA/oOB0s3U2ngE/s1600-h/IMG20150110WA00258.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; margin: 0px 10px 0px 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="IMG-20150110-WA0025" border="0" alt="IMG-20150110-WA0025" align="left" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-VCXY9sjDqhU/VS513z5BRyI/AAAAAAAANdI/i0umDQ19PRk/IMG20150110WA0025_thumb5.jpg?imgmax=800" width="201" height="259" /></a> When the cake was brought to the table, it made the kids forget their games and they all got around the table to sing the birthday song. The cake was truly delectable and I was glad that my little prince was floored by it. The food was followed by more games and finally the party got over.</p> <p>Shaurya undoubtedly enjoyed his party and was excited about the gifts he received. He opened the packets one by one and kept on talking about how he would want to use the stuff he got. The books, toys and games that he got were immaterial, but the sparkle in his eyes was priceless and as a mother I would always want him to smile and remain happy.</p> <p>Dear Shaurya, </p> <p>Material things will fade away with time but moments are precious and leave an indelible mark on our memories.. I am sure this birthday will be cherished like all the other ones in the past. I hope when you grow up and look back at all these memories that I have been compiling for you, they bring you the same joy and help you relive all these moments all over again. </p> <p>Till then, as I promised, I will keep making these posts and even try and fill in the gaps between this post and last. </p> <p>Love, <br />Mom</p> Roopahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09600598745400361882noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7856342071457113896.post-7804111955072743952013-09-08T04:20:00.000+05:302013-09-08T04:22:36.500+05:30Trip To Udaipur & Jia’ji<p><font size="3" face="Book Antiqua"></font></p> <p><font size="3" face="Book Antiqua">Shaurya and I travelled to Udaipur by ourselves in the last week of May to visit my sister and her family. My eldest ‘Jija ji’ and Shaurya’s ‘Maasad Ji’ is an army man and currently posted there and Shaurya is apparently quite fond of him. The way he follows him around in the house is a sight worth watching. Being in the Indian Army, my sister and brother in law have a different lifestyle, they have lots of helpers to run errands and look after all kinds of things. Shaurya, who is normally not used to such things, loved being pampered and was the center of attraction for not just my brother in law, but even the helpers.</font></p> <p><font size="3" face="Book Antiqua"><img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px 10px 0px 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="Shaurya Udaipur" border="0" alt="Shaurya Udaipur" align="left" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-XBqtI8aJBYo/UiuuMfEfApI/AAAAAAAAA0g/miw8QB4qOe4/udaipur1%25255B11%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="235" height="227" /> Shaurya had a freezer full of ice creams and chocolates waiting for him and he did not take long to clean them up but then, Jija ji would quickly replenish it indulging him all he could. Being the eldest in the family we have always looked up to Jija Ji as a father figure but Shaurya’s attachment to him could only be seen to believed. Shaurya would sit up and wait for him to come back home for lunch, would accompany him on his smoking breaks and even stay up till late at night to listen to his talks and stories.</font></p> <p><font size="3" face="Book Antiqua">The funny thing was that Shaurya somehow always felt that we called him Jiya ji and not Jija ji and could not be convinced that it was not so. In fact, despite being coaxed by Jija ji himself to call him as ‘Maasad ji’,he could not be shaken and still chooses to call him Jija ji.</font></p> <p><font size="3" face="Book Antiqua">It is strange how children can connect to grown ups in the most uncanny ways and develop new bonds on their own and grown ups who are often feared, respected and admired by their peers and family succumb easily to a child’s innocence and reveal an unseen part of their personality.</font></p> <p><font size="3" face="Book Antiqua">Dear Shaurya,</font></p> <p><font size="3" face="Book Antiqua">With time perhaps this little bond that you developed will age and change into more formal respect. I hope this little post will forever account for what you shared during the summers of 2013 and will forever remind you that kindness is a virtue that leaves a lasting impression. </font></p> <p><font size="3" face="Book Antiqua">So here I am today, praying that God fills your heart with kindness and compassion and allows you to share it with everyone alike. Grow up to be responsible and sensitive and be a joy to the world.</font></p> Shaurya's Chronicleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17597205740465528015noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7856342071457113896.post-14540650304734519412013-09-08T01:30:00.000+05:302013-09-08T02:06:03.444+05:30Two Weddings and A Horse<p><font size="3"><font face="Book Antiqua">I read it somewhere: <strong>How to ride a horse:</strong></font></font></p> <p><font size="3" face="Book Antiqua">Step One – Mount the horse. <br />Step Two – Stay mounted.</font></p> <p><font size="3" face="Book Antiqua">It was the much awaited occasion of Shaurya’s chaachu’s wedding and everyone in the house particularly Shaurya was very excited about it. He is extremely close to his uncle and couldn’t hold all his excitement. </font></p> <p><font size="3" face="Book Antiqua"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; margin: 0px 10px 0px 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="Shaurya Henna" border="0" alt="Shaurya Henna" align="left" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-Ck7J3IRxpmY/UiuKim2qnMI/AAAAAAAAA0E/o7uGqEylS3s/DSCN4348%25255B10%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="239" height="500" /> Now, according to Hindu rituals the bridegroom goes to the wedding venue, mounted on a horse and the youngest boy in the house has to accompany him as a ‘<i>sarbaala’</i> on it. Being the youngest in the family, Shaurya got the chance to be the <em>‘sarbaala’.  </em>I am sure he didn’t understand much about the significance of the custom but just knowing that he would be wearing a similar attire like his uncle for the special day, his joy knew no bounds. In fact he even got  a little henna pattern done on his palm like the groom.</font></p> <p><font size="3" face="Book Antiqua">Finally, when it was time to mount the mare, Shaurya refused to do so, as it was a full grown mare and really tall. He was scared out of his wits and thus, instead of being by his uncle’s side, he chose to remain with the others and did not venture near the horse at all. Every time we pulled him to come near it, he ran away howling. I am sure he heaved a huge sigh of relief when we reached the venue and he was spared of the ordeal.</font></p> <p><font size="3" face="Book Antiqua">As a mother, I was a little disheartened seeing him scared like this and at the fact that we could not infuse enough confidence in him to take a little ride but I also feel that it was our mistake as well, to not apprise him and mentally prepare him before the ceremony. </font><font size="3" face="Book Antiqua"> </font></p> <p><font size="3" face="Book Antiqua"><font size="3" face="Book Antiqua"><img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 15px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="sarbaala" border="0" alt="sarbaala" align="right" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-kLAEnfqSato/UiuOMMf-8rI/AAAAAAAAA0Q/a27Eyq-1mvI/sarbaala%25255B16%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="197" height="268" /></font>However, it so happened that within a month after his uncle’s wedding, there was another wedding in the family and we all went to Chandigarh to attend it. Well, the horse again came into the picture and Shaurya was troubled at the sight of it. Having known from our past experience, we knew better this time around and did not urge him to ride it. </font></p> <p><font size="3" face="Book Antiqua">During the course of the wedding that evening, we returned to our hotel to change for another function later in the night. Incidentally in the middle of our hotel’s lobby stood a life like statue of a horse. </font></p> <p><font size="3" face="Book Antiqua">We were passing by it when suddenly Shaurya decided to overcome his fear and had the urge to mount that statue perhaps just to get a feel of it. I as a mother and a teacher normally would not have conceded to his demand, but having known how he was scared initially and seeing him make an attempt to go past his initial fears, I gave in and we let him sit on that statue for a brief while (of course, with the consent of the hotel staff).</font></p> <p><font size="3" face="Book Antiqua">I can’t say if anything really changed for him that moment, but there was a sudden spring in his feet when he finally got down from the statue. He was much more relaxed and kept looking at me for approving his little feat…needless to add, I gave him a little hug and encouraged him on.</font></p> <p><font size="3" face="Book Antiqua">My child,</font></p> <p><font size="3" face="Book Antiqua">I want you to remember this little incident and read this post when you are a little unsure of the obstacles in your way. It was a trivial situation but then you overcame it, on your own by making an effort and succeeded as well. </font></p> <p><font size="3" face="Book Antiqua">I wish that you take heart from this little post and remember before you say I can’t to something, you give it a try. </font><font size="3" face="Book Antiqua">As again, I promise to stand by you as a mother and a guide through all what you attempt to achieve and all your ups and downs.</font></p> <p><font size="3" face="Book Antiqua">All the best, my little knight :)</font></p> <p><font size="3" face="Book Antiqua"> </font></p> Shaurya's Chronicleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17597205740465528015noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7856342071457113896.post-31988228435435901772013-09-07T00:30:00.000+05:302013-09-08T04:36:21.732+05:30The Graduate<p><font size="3" face="Book Antiqua">I remember having written about Shaurya starting the play school (Read </font><a href="http://shauryamidha.blogspot.com/2008/12/baby-day-out-shaurya-goes-to-play.html" target="_blank"><font size="3" face="Book Antiqua">HERE</font></a><font size="3" face="Book Antiqua">) and then his first day at a formal school (Read </font><a href="http://shauryamidha.blogspot.com/2010/06/first-day-at-school.html" target="_blank"><font size="3" face="Book Antiqua">HERE</font></a><font size="3" face="Book Antiqua">), I guess it is just right that I include a little note and a picture about his first graduation ceremony.</font></p> <p><font size="3" face="Book Antiqua"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 10px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="Shaurya - Graduate" border="0" alt="Shaurya - Graduate" align="right" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-VTYAVCDVfag/Uit9NNR2WNI/AAAAAAAAAz0/qLFt7yfP8f0/Ruchin%25255B4%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="260" height="235" /> The graduation ceremony is basically held by schools as a milestone to show that the child is now entering a numbered class. For Shaurya, this happened when he moved from Prep to Class I. The school held a small function which Shaurya attended wearing a gown and a mortarboard – all dressed for the occasion. </font></p> <p><font size="3" face="Book Antiqua">We as a family attended the function and were really happy to see him graduating. I couldn’t hold back my tears seeing my little baby looking bright and all grown up. </font></p> <p><font size="3" face="Book Antiqua">Dear Shaurya, </font></p> <p><font size="3" face="Book Antiqua">Though this ceremony was a little mock drill to the next class, but when you actually complete your bachelor’s or master’s degree and be ready for the world, I hope that I am able to attend that ceremony as well, standing there as a proud parent, clapping the loudest and cheering for you and wishing that you pursue your dreams and follow them sincerely to realize them. On that day I am sure, you will be confident to leave the secure environs of your home to step out into the world and lead a life of your own.  You will go off to different places, take big decisions in life and at times you will not even bother to keep your old mother informed. </font></p> <p><font size="3" face="Book Antiqua">Let me use this post as an opportunity to tell you, that my love and blessings will always be with you through thick and thin and I will always be there willing to listen to all what you have to tell me. As a child, I heard all your babbling and unnecessary talks with utmost care and attention and I will do the same whenever you want me around.</font></p> <p><font size="3" face="Book Antiqua">Love you, my little graduate.</font></p> <p><font size="3" face="Book Antiqua"></font></p> Shaurya's Chronicleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17597205740465528015noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7856342071457113896.post-27085711126288637942013-03-22T18:30:00.000+05:302013-09-08T01:01:17.232+05:30English Vinglish<p><font size="3" face="Book Antiqua">Shaurya has finally learnt to read and write. I am amazed to see the way he reads story books and his prescribed course books. He loves reading English books, and thanks to his DaMa, he is good at Hindi too. Well, I know am being too ambitious here, but yes I would love it if he becomes a voracious r<var></var>eader.</font></p> <p><font size="3" face="Book Antiqua">Parenting is a difficult task and even though I am an English teacher, I still cannot justify why ‘enough’ is not ‘enuf’ and ‘could’ is not ‘cud’. He puts me in a tizzy by asking such questions which I cannot even ‘Google’.</font></p> <p><font size="3" face="Book Antiqua"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; margin: 0px 15px 0px 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="Drawing" border="0" alt="Drawing" align="left" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-lc4S3utnVs0/UUxW2u_2XmI/AAAAAAAAAyk/Nsap8HdQ9kk/IMG-20130106-01615%25255B14%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="260" height="200" /> He made a drawing and labeled the things in it as small, medium and big and when I pointed out that the spellings were wrong, as he had put in ‘<strong>smol</strong>’, ‘<strong>meedeeyom</strong>’ and ‘big’, he was quick to add that the spellings were correct as they were articulated that way. </font></p> <p><font size="3" face="Book Antiqua">Goodness… Am sure William Wordsworth must have dealt with a child and that is how he must have written the famous one liner, “<i>The child is the father of the Man</i>”.</font></p> <p><font size="3" face="Book Antiqua">Well my love, you sure have taught me a lesson or two… never realized English would make my head spin, so much so that I would love to avoid all discussions related to it. But the most important lesson that I’ve learnt from you is ‘patience’. I have learnt to control my temper and instead of shouting at you for the many naughty things that you do, all I do is smile or share a laugh</font></p> <p><font size="3" face="Book Antiqua"></font></p> Shaurya's Chronicleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17597205740465528015noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7856342071457113896.post-12083202268029265042013-03-20T02:00:00.000+05:302013-03-22T18:36:24.024+05:30Shaurya Turns Six – The Birthday Post<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span id="yui_3_7_2_1_1363615870386_9410" style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua', serif;">From the perspective of this blog, I had a pretty slow and rather dismal showing last year with only 4 posts in 12 months. I guess God hasn’t been too kind to be me on my wellness front and I have found myself struggling with my health on more than one occasion. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua', serif;">I guess this new blog template and the much awaited registration of a domain name for Shaurya (Yes, I am now officially available at shauryamidha.com) ushers in a new hope and a new zeal to turn around things for myself and focus more on this journal for Shaurya. </span></div>
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<span id="yui_3_7_2_1_1363615870386_9407" style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua', serif;">And so, beginning with first things first - an account of Shaurya’s sixth birthday. </span></div>
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<span id="yui_3_7_2_1_1363615870386_9365" style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua', serif;">My little rockstar’s birthday is always a special occasion and this year was no different. Shaurya’s daddy and I were planning a party for his birthday, weeks in advance. We sought to hold a big bash and wanted to invite all his friends, but perhaps it was destined otherwise.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua', serif;"></span><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua', serif;">A series of unforeseen events on a day before his birthday made his special day lose some of its sheen. </span><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua', serif;">First, an urgent matter came up and Shaurya’s Daddy had to travel out of station for work on his birthday and then to make matters worse, the weather played a spoil sport as well and it became exceedingly cold forcing us to shelve all plans for the party at the last minute. And if this was not enough, it turned out that his birthday was a school </span><span id="yui_3_7_2_1_1363615870386_9413" style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua', serif;">holiday for Shaurya but not for me and so he had to stay overnight at his DaMa’s house which implied that even I could not wake up next to him to wish him the first thing in the morning. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua', serif;">It was particularly hard for me to sleep that night. I was saddened by the fact that Shaurya was eagerly looking forward to his birthday and now it just won’t be the same with his Daddy out for work and none of his friends coming over. </span><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua', serif;">But thankfully, his Chachu, Chachi and DaMa made his morning special by waking him up with loads of balloons and gifts, a few things which he really wanted.</span></div>
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<span id="yui_3_7_2_1_1363615870386_9415" style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua', serif;"><img align="left" alt="Birthday" border="0" height="260" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-0rejVI0CZXY/UUjQu_w1lzI/AAAAAAAAAyU/SlL6DbxGI2g/photo2%25255B7%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; margin: 0px 10px 0px 0px;" title="Birthday" width="189" />The day went on and as soon as my school got over, I rushed home to meet Shaurya. We cut his favourite chocolate cake and all of us… chachu, chachi and da’ma sang the birthday song for him. This cheered him up a bit but I could see that he was not really satisfied with just a plain cake cutting at home.</span></div>
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<span id="yui_3_7_2_1_1363615870386_9417" style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua', serif;">To make it up to him, I arranged a small party at his school the next day, where he took his ‘angry bird’ cake and some other goodies to share with his friends. I guess this plan turned out to be a success and Shaurya came home beaming. And then of course there was this </span><span id="yui_3_7_2_1_1363615870386_9419" style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua', serif;">other birthday bash that we had to cancel earlier that we planned for the coming Sunday. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua', serif;">When the day arrived, Shaurya had two of his best friends </span><span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua', serif;">Parshvi and Riddhie come over and all of them had a fun filled time at the play area and then a cake cutting with a nice sumptuous lunch at Geoffrey’s at DLF Mall followed. The kids had a great time laughing and playing and by the time we returned home, Shaurya was all smiling ear to ear and as a parent I felt satisfied at heart, knowing that he had the best of times.</span></div>
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<span id="yui_3_7_2_1_1363615870386_9423" style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua', serif;">Let me conclude this post with a little note to you my son.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua', serif;">Dear Shaurya,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua', serif;">With time you will grow up to be a man of great stature , but you will always remain my little ‘mau billi’. I feel blessed to have a son like you. All my love, prayers and blessings will be there with you through the course of your life. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua', serif;">Every day you bring a smile to my face and you will always remain special to me. There will come a time when you would not want me or your dad to be a part of your birthday parties and will have a world of your own. Maybe we as your parents will not physically be a part of these celebrations, but no matter where you are and where you go my love and wishes will always find you. In my heart I would always be there with you, to cut the cake, to kiss you and tell you that I love you a lot and that you will always be my shining star!!!!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua', serif;">Happy Birthday once again !!!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua', serif;">Love, <br />Mom</span></div>
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Shaurya's Chronicleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17597205740465528015noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7856342071457113896.post-29925515682488562502012-11-09T16:00:00.000+05:302013-03-16T18:07:28.461+05:30Shaurya & The Sound of Music….<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I remember a time when we used to travel with our parents and were extra careful about the songs we wanted to play in the car. The songs were carefully selected to not contain anything that may be even remotely considered ‘inappropriate’ by my parents.<br />
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I never then realized that time would so change that parents will also be required to act as a DJ for their kids in the car and play the numbers they like while driving. Off late, my young prince has also started showing a liking for music and at times wants me to just forget driving and switch songs for him at his behest.<br />
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However, I am glad that he really likes listening to the songs I am also fond of and the requests usually include the oldies and soulful numbers from yesteryears that I like to hum along. It seems he has a natural flair for singing and keeps crooning every time he is alone in his room or feels that I am listening to him.</div>
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He is quite fond of ‘Phoolon ka Taaron ka’ and ‘Bade achche lagte hain ye dharti, ye nadiya...’ in particular and wants them played over and over at times. I could coax him to record a few lines on my phone and could manage to upload and save them for later.</div>
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Having documented his initial effort, I thought of adding in a small note addressed to him.</div>
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Dear Son,</div>
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As you take your first few steps towards pursuing a creative interest of your choice, I feel happy for you and proud as a mother should be for her son on his feat. </div>
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I am sharing the two recordings I took with this post. Perhaps the rest of the world may not see this as some masterpiece of a musical genius but as a mother I take pride in all that you strive to do with a dedicated and sincere effort.</div>
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In fact this is the lesson I intend to pass on today to you. With time you will pick up new skills and learn and unlearn other things. You will pursue some hobby and be passionate about something else and perhaps this will change over course of time as well. I want you to promise me and yourself that whatever you decide to do or take up, you will give it one sincere trial before abandoning it, if you must. </div>
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Let no one tell you that you can’t do something. Remember there are no losers in life, only people who quit before they got to their goal.</div>
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For now, I shall let you be and enjoy your childhood and carefree singing. Let me play your requested song once again and maybe this time around I will join you as well.</div>
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With all love…</div>
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Shaurya’s rendition of the two songs is available at the following links:</div>
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Shaurya's Chronicleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17597205740465528015noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7856342071457113896.post-68206762028449505382012-10-15T14:50:00.000+05:302013-03-16T18:08:06.132+05:30Tell Me Why….<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<blockquote>
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<img align="right" alt="John Locke" border="0" height="88" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-oSn7R4z3Nto/UHvVdmDHU1I/AAAAAAAAAw0/u5lYjExugl0/John%252520Locke%25255B13%25255D.png?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px;" title="John Locke" width="69" /> <span style="color: maroon;">There is frequently more to be learned from the unexpected questions of a child than the discourse of men. </span></div>
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<span style="color: maroon;"></span></div>
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<span style="color: maroon;">- John Locke</span></div>
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As a teacher I have always encouraged students to bring up questions to validate their understanding against all that they are taught to develop their own intellect and reference frames. Personally, I do believe that right set of questions relevant to the subject help students enrich their vision and thinking spectrum by leaps and bounds. Also as a mother, I have always tried stimulating Shaurya’s mind about the world around him and prompted him to question why certain things happen only a certain way and develop his own reasoning skills. </div>
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I guess people like me (young parents) do often land up in perplexing situations when their young ones bring up questions that though themselves simple have complex answers. </div>
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He is not any different from his contemporaries and his mind is also full of all kinds of queries and though I try and answer as many possible, these days I am often confounded by the questions my little prince has started putting up. I am trying to list as many as possible here for I am sure that it will make a very amusing read for both me and him a few years from now.</div>
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The question session is more like rapid fire....Shaurya keeps firing questions at me and I struggle to answer: </div>
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<i>Is it summer today? </i></div>
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<i>Why is it night now? </i></div>
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<i>Why so soon, why couldn’t it wait longer? </i></div>
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<i>Which flyover is this? </i></div>
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<i>Why do you drive the car? Are you a driver? </i></div>
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<i>Why are you going to school and I am not? (on the days he has an off and me being a teacher has to still go)</i></div>
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<i>Whom do you teach? Where is your class? </i></div>
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<i>Why do girls cry? (I still am finding a suitable reasonable answer to this)</i></div>
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<i>How does batman fly? </i></div>
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<i>What if someone gifts us a pet? </i></div>
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<i>When will I go to Da’Ma’shouse? </i></div>
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<i>Why didn't you make rajma chawal again today? </i></div>
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<i>Why don't you apply cream on your face? </i></div>
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<i>Why is car so strong..is it because it eats tori and ghiya (bitter gourd)? </i></div>
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<i>Why is it not monsoon season? </i></div>
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<i>When will I go to USA to meet Saanu and Zuwi (his cousins)? </i></div>
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<i>When will I grow up? </i></div>
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<i>Why did you keep me in your tummy when you knew I was inside? (Inviting suggestions from my readers to help me answer this)</i></div>
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<em>Why don’t girls have muscles and only boys have them? (I have tried reasoning it out that this isn’t true and both girls and boys have muscles in their body, but somehow his idea of muscles is bulging biceps for now and this more often than not leads him to get into an argument with me)</em></div>
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<img align="left" alt="Uploads-8" border="0" height="221" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-rLUiLq0v80c/UHvVft5bUXI/AAAAAAAAAw8/zUtizS-_N-I/Uploads-8%25255B5%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; margin: 0px 15px 0px 0px;" title="Uploads-8" width="149" /> If this was not enough, a standard conversation goes more like the following:</div>
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“<i>How old are u? How old is daddy? How old is Baata? How old is Bunny bhaiya (his cousin)? How old is Yasho (his friend)? How old is RV? Oh..RV is 3 yrs old..just like Zuwi..no mamma, then Nishu is just 2 yrs..that’s not right!!! Why don't you celebrate my b'day more often so that I’m older than Saanu didi and become 9yrs old and then she calls me bhaiya (big brother)!!!</i>”</div>
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I guess in a few years his questions will gradually recede. Maybe, with time he will stop trusting me as a ‘reliable’ source of information and look up to other more trustworthy resources. Perhaps as we grow old, I will become a little outdated for his ‘grown-up’ queries. And then maybe, there will be a day when I will go a little hard of hearing and will actually lose track of where the world moves to and will keep asking him all such questions.<br />
<img align="right" alt="Smiley 2" border="0" height="53" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-Bq1mXDSNrcI/UHvVh451CSI/AAAAAAAAAxE/ktYYhG-Xl6I/Smiley%2525202%25255B6%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; margin: 0px 0px 0px 15px;" title="Smiley 2" width="53" />I just hope Son, that on that day you do realize that as your mother I answered all your questions as many times as you asked without losing my patience with you. Let’s see, if you are just as patient with your mother then. <br />
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Shaurya's Chronicleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17597205740465528015noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7856342071457113896.post-66801492293358857072012-10-08T21:00:00.000+05:302012-10-08T21:23:51.300+05:30Procrastination!!!<p align="justify">Ah well!! It isn’t the first time I had been out of action on this blog. However, I now find it increasingly difficult to explain my absence every time I have been away. I guess, the only thing I can say or rightfully admit now is that I had been procrastinating (perhaps a little too long). </p> <p align="justify">Maybe it was a typical situation of ‘writer’s block’, I don’t know. At one point in time, I had almost given up and was seriously considering taking the blog down. But, thanks to the constant nagging and motivation of a close friend, I feel rejuvenated enough to pursue this with same vigor one more time. </p> <p align="justify">The fact remains that this blog is for Shaurya and I am documenting his stories, so I guess I owe an apology to my little prince. In days ahead I will try my best to recollect all what he did in the recent past and put it down here for him to read when he is ready to. </p> <p align="justify">I guess I will start right from his birthday to his dearest ‘Baata’ getting married recently. To him I can only say that I will try my best dear, but I am sure you are well aware of your mum’s forgetful way... Hoping for the best!!!</p> <p align="justify">Here’s something I found online after I decided to make this post. Fits quite well…:)</p> <p align="justify"><img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="procrastination" border="0" alt="procrastination" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-dxKuTR3a78Y/UHL2s3sqHDI/AAAAAAAAAwo/MFnS3IrtFsw/procrastination%25255B6%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="474" height="377" /></p> Shaurya's Chronicleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17597205740465528015noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7856342071457113896.post-82983141129504286462012-02-10T16:00:00.000+05:302013-03-19T01:00:00.838+05:30Report Card…<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
"There is no pleasure in having nothing to do; the fun is in having lots to do and not doing it." <br />
—Mary Wilson Little<br />
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<a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-6DNoV9BS4i4/TzT4k_RrVCI/AAAAAAAAAfA/aJn77QgCFO8/s1600-h/DSCN18297.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="DSCN1829" border="0" height="184" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-NX2VH5GVWn0/TzT4ly3VGyI/AAAAAAAAAfI/ruG2ILWZw2c/DSCN1829_thumb1.jpg?imgmax=800" style="background-image: none; border-width: 0px; display: inline; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="DSCN1829" width="244" /></a> </div>
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It’s not that Shaurya is not being naughty anymore or is just not doing things worth mentioning, it’s just that his mommy dear is too pre- occupied in ten thousand things and I think I must put forth my profound apologies to Shaurya for showing so much of laxity. Well, am sure he will excuse me, because he sees me running around every day, catching up with every minute i wasted around.</div>
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Its been so long that I penned down anything and even i need to get into the groove and so to start with I have something really special and this is Shaurya’s first term Report Card. Well, this is his first ever Progress Report. I was really excited when I got in my hands and so, I thought I would take some pictures and put them up here. I would just like to add here that Shaurya joined the school in the month of July and the term ended in mid September, so I was all the more happy to see that my little prince has settled well in the new environment. He loves his new school and doesn’t want to miss even a day. As parents, this was the first Report card that we got to sign and we both were beaming when we did that. </div>
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I’m proud of you my son. I don’t want you to achieve good grades in academics, but yes, I desire, that you become a good human being. It is a broad term and I know that… will let you fill in the qualities of a good human being…</div>
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<tr><td style="border-style: none; height: 76px; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px 5px 5px 5px; vertical-align: bottom; width: 76px;"><a border="0" href="https://skydrive.live.com/redir.aspx?cid=58ed44f5c0409c26&page=play&resid=58ED44F5C0409C26!114&parid=58ED44F5C0409C26!107&type=1&Bsrc=Photomail&Bpub=SDX.Photos&authkey=!ABE1rYtwgRgR5wI" style="border-style: none; font-family: 'Segoe UI', helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 8pt; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank"><img alt="View album" border="0" height="76" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-a2Ns88Wl2ew/TzT_91Czo_I/AAAAAAAAAgA/rD0gMbkQZ9Y/-85673249840A39B57.png?imgmax=800" style="background-image: none; background: none; border-style: none; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; vertical-align: bottom;" title="View album" width="76" /></a></td><td style="border-style: none; height: 76px; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px 5px 5px 0px; vertical-align: bottom; width: 76px;"><a border="0" href="https://skydrive.live.com/redir.aspx?cid=58ed44f5c0409c26&page=play&resid=58ED44F5C0409C26!115&parid=58ED44F5C0409C26!107&type=1&Bsrc=Photomail&Bpub=SDX.Photos&authkey=!ABE1rYtwgRgR5wI" style="border-style: none; font-family: 'Segoe UI', helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 8pt; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank"><img alt="View album" border="0" height="76" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-TCBbjylnqPc/TzT_-4FrK4I/AAAAAAAAAgI/hXiQSMkOcBE/-856732339599F6B9C.png?imgmax=800" style="background-image: none; background: none; border-style: none; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; vertical-align: bottom;" title="View album" width="76" /></a></td><td style="border-style: none; height: 76px; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px 5px 5px 0px; vertical-align: bottom; width: 76px;"><a border="0" href="https://skydrive.live.com/redir.aspx?cid=58ed44f5c0409c26&page=play&resid=58ED44F5C0409C26!116&parid=58ED44F5C0409C26!107&type=1&Bsrc=Photomail&Bpub=SDX.Photos&authkey=!ABE1rYtwgRgR5wI" style="border-style: none; font-family: 'Segoe UI', helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 8pt; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank"><img alt="View album" border="0" height="76" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-2VmFA-HfEQY/TzT__wOXgyI/AAAAAAAAAgQ/biAGirh47zM/-856732696078CBE55.png?imgmax=800" style="background-image: none; background: none; border-style: none; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; vertical-align: bottom;" title="View album" width="76" /></a></td><td style="border-style: none; height: 76px; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px 5px 5px 0px; vertical-align: bottom; width: 76px;"><a border="0" href="https://skydrive.live.com/redir.aspx?cid=58ed44f5c0409c26&page=play&resid=58ED44F5C0409C26!117&parid=58ED44F5C0409C26!107&type=1&Bsrc=Photomail&Bpub=SDX.Photos&authkey=!ABE1rYtwgRgR5wI" style="border-style: none; font-family: 'Segoe UI', helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 8pt; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank"><img alt="View album" border="0" height="76" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-D-ioM2w__9Y/TzUAA6ocJ0I/AAAAAAAAAgY/uUNKE4qHNOQ/-856732793729B3BE1.png?imgmax=800" style="background-image: none; background: none; border-style: none; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; vertical-align: bottom;" title="View album" width="76" /></a></td><td style="border-style: none; height: 76px; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px 5px 5px 0px; vertical-align: bottom; width: 76px;"><a border="0" href="https://skydrive.live.com/redir.aspx?cid=58ed44f5c0409c26&page=play&resid=58ED44F5C0409C26!118&parid=58ED44F5C0409C26!107&type=1&Bsrc=Photomail&Bpub=SDX.Photos&authkey=!ABE1rYtwgRgR5wI" style="border-style: none; font-family: 'Segoe UI', helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 8pt; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank"><img alt="View album" border="0" height="76" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-3nL--0TV8TE/TzUAB-Ren3I/AAAAAAAAAgg/WiJK0LB6e8c/-72284238420888E9A.png?imgmax=800" style="background-image: none; background: none; border-style: none; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; vertical-align: bottom;" title="View album" width="76" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td style="border-style: none; height: 76px; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px 5px 5px 5px; vertical-align: bottom; width: 76px;"><a border="0" href="https://skydrive.live.com/redir.aspx?cid=58ed44f5c0409c26&page=play&resid=58ED44F5C0409C26!119&parid=58ED44F5C0409C26!107&type=1&Bsrc=Photomail&Bpub=SDX.Photos&authkey=!ABE1rYtwgRgR5wI" style="border-style: none; font-family: 'Segoe UI', helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 8pt; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank"><img alt="View album" border="0" height="76" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-IF_PSLNMULw/TzUACs-qGLI/AAAAAAAAAgo/H1ww2gMxs1k/-7228424810B970C27.png?imgmax=800" style="background-image: none; background: none; border-style: none; border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px; vertical-align: bottom;" title="View album" width="76" /></a></td><td style="border-style: none; height: 76px; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px 5px 5px 0px; vertical-align: bottom; width: 76px;"></td><td style="border-style: none; height: 76px; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px 5px 5px 0px; vertical-align: bottom; width: 76px;"></td><td style="border-style: none; height: 76px; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px 5px 5px 0px; vertical-align: bottom; width: 76px;"></td><td style="border-style: none; height: 76px; margin: 0px; outline: none; padding: 0px 5px 5px 0px; vertical-align: bottom; width: 76px;"></td></tr>
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(By the way.. don’t give your mum a report card for not writing the blog regularly)</div>
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Shaurya's Chronicleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17597205740465528015noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7856342071457113896.post-41064915716456058712011-11-11T08:00:00.000+05:302013-03-16T18:12:29.343+05:30“Mamma… look this is for you…”<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Just remembered a quote by Emma Goldman, “I'd rather have roses on my table than diamonds on my neck.” </div>
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<img align="left" alt="flowers" border="0" height="228" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-CRNHTaRxsF0/TryLvE1CLpI/AAAAAAAAAeo/SgQrnhlGAnE/flowers%25255B9%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; margin: 0px 10px 0px 0px;" title="flowers" width="201" /> Shaurya always amazes me with his new found likes and dislikes and this time it is his love for flowers. I wonder how, but Shaurya is quite obsessed with the fact that his mother should wear flowers. Whenever and where ever he sees a flower, he plucks it and gets it for me. I do feel like stopping him from plucking them, but then the selfish mother inside me wants him to get one every time. It is very fulfilling to see him running around looking at the flowers and then finally deciding on the one he would want for me.</div>
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Recently we attended three weddings and Shaurya got me flowers that were used for decoration to wear in my hair. So in all the wedding I have sported big yellow sunflowers to daisies. They did look funny at times but since they had been brought in by my little angel so I did put them willingly in my hair. </div>
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Shaurya usually goes for his skating sessions in the evenings and the little walk to the skating rink is lined with flowers. On our way back he loves picking flowers for me and then forces me to put them in my hair. I realize that I might look funny to a bystander as the era when women would adorn their tresses with flowers is long gone by and forgotten but then I admire the feelings with which he gives them to me and to respect those feelings I put the flowers on whenever he gives me one.</div>
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<img align="right" alt="flowers2" border="0" height="248" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-DHtIrDEb_F8/TryLKKSLc7I/AAAAAAAAAew/Irbipqxb1GU/flowers2%25255B4%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; margin: 0px 0px 0px 10px;" title="flowers2" width="215" /> In days ahead I am sure, Shaurya would get over this little routine and may not resort to buy or pick flowers until a couple of years down the line. Most likely they would then be for someone other than his mother. I hope that when you grow up you are sensitive and sensible enough to carry on doing these little things to make some one special feel all the more special. For now, I guess, I shall enjoy my little treats and this lovely little display of your love and smell the sweet scent of all flowers that you can lay your hands upon for me.</div>
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Shaurya's Chronicleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17597205740465528015noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7856342071457113896.post-50670994261731430012011-11-04T19:30:00.000+05:302013-03-16T18:12:40.067+05:30Jai Maata Ji Ki Jai..<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I am not sure if it’s my habit of going into a hibernation after every few posts or just a possibility that my little one is not giving me enough stories to post in. I believe its the former since Shaurya picks up a new trick every now and then and has been doing his best on that front. At times I just wish I had a photographic memory and ample time at hand to save and document every little incident for my little angel to read when he grows up…</div>
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Coming back to the title, well it seems quite apt to commence something with the name of the almighty, but here, the title refers to something else. It was yesterday when I had to visit the Kailash Colony market to run some important errands when I saw this fancy grocery store and decided to check it out. I was not running by any particular grocery list and followed my instinct with Shaurya as usual wanting everything in the store and handing out things to me and me putting them back.</div>
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It was some time before we finally stepped out of the store and I was intrigued by few people gathered right outside the door talking about the smoke emanating from the ventilator of the shop next door. It was just about that moment when someone opened the shutter and huge flames shot out of the shop. </div>
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<img align="left" alt="fire" border="0" height="136" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-RPF2ShR2VcU/TrP2_gxiq0I/AAAAAAAAAeI/FqT2dNk2ELw/fire%25255B8%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; margin: 0px 10px 0px 0px;" title="fire" width="136" /> We were stunned by the shooting flares and stood transfixed in our positions for a minute trying to understand the situation. It was only when I saw that people around us were shouting and running around, I realized that the raging fire was not less than 4 feet away from us.</div>
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I quickly grabbed Shaurya and rushed to the other side of the road where Shaurya’s Da-Ma was busy and alarmed her about the fire. It seemed forever waiting for her to come down the little flight of stairs and once she was with us, I wasted no time in rushing everyone across past the running people and screeching cars to the spot where our car was parked. </div>
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Normally you would see people give in to panic and jam all roads in a matter of few moments and I was just thankful that someone coming from behind sensed the commotion and halted and I got the needed space to take my car out and speed through a by-lane. Well, I must admit, that for once I felt that perhaps I was face to face with my end and perhaps was rushing through my last few moments and even found myself praying. But, I guess once we were out, I could compose myself but still could not think of anything but reaching back home at the earliest. </div>
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I guess it came as a greater shock to Shaurya and the entire sight moved him so much that he sat in the car with his hands folded and climbed the stairs to the house in the same manner and kept telling me that he was asking God not to ‘give us’ fire. </div>
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<img align="left" alt="Shaurya" border="0" height="260" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-noqMB9WfZWE/TrP2_5GgFWI/AAAAAAAAAeQ/LeDOMmW642s/DSCN1157%25255B13%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; margin: 0px 10px 0px 0px;" title="Shaurya" width="182" /> Since it was already dusk and had become dark, he held my hand saying that he could not see my face and I finally managed to open the door lock with one hand and hugging Shaurya with the other. As soon as we were inside our home, he took me to the corner where we have placed some idols of Gods and Goddesses and folded his hands again and looked at me and said, “Jai Mata Ji Ki Jai”. i gave him a tight hug and did the ‘Jai-kaara’ for him and after that he did not let me leave him even for a minute. As I key in this post, I am sitting next to him as he sleeps. Perhaps the sight he saw is still bothering him a bit and he wakes up every now and then and looks at me as I try comforting him. </div>
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Well, my little angel, all I can wish for is the power to protect you from all dangers and be with you all the time. I ‘m sure that in a few years you will not want my protective arm around you and would learn to fight your own battles and deal with them. Perhaps someday as I grow old and frail I shall look upon you to hold me and comfort me like you need me today. One of these days when you shall grow up to be a fine strong man, I would seek you to hold me steady or guide me to safety but I guess no matter how the time changes us just remember that my good wishes and love would always be with you no matter where you are, to protect you from any impending danger. </div>
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God bless and as you say “Jai Mata Ji Ki Jai” again. </div>
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Shaurya's Chronicleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17597205740465528015noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7856342071457113896.post-79602311759423712012011-05-30T07:30:00.000+05:302013-03-16T18:12:55.228+05:30Happy Blues… :)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I think i need to tender my apologies to my little one, who will definitely come up and ask me one day, that if I had started the blog for him, then why didn’t I write about every new thing that he did. Well, Mau (I love calling him that now), I can only say this in my defense that it is not easy being a working mother trying to do your bit with life, people, family matters and the little social work with Rotary that I try and be a part of from time to time. Honestly speaking, it’s been over a fortnight since our summer vacations began and there really hasn’t been a day that I have been able to sit and just relax at home. We have been stepping out of the house to complete an unfinished task or run errands in the scorching sun almost on a daily basis. Ah well, enough of my excuses and ranting about how busy I have been. Let me narrate this little story about Shaurya’s latest fixation.</div>
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I am sure as a child grows up and understands his environment better, he starts realizing that he can have his way for certain things and starts making and asserting his choices. In recent times, Shaurya has somehow got hooked onto the color BLUE and now everything around him has to be (no prize for guessing that) BLUE. He wants his room to have blue walls, his basket ball and cricket ball to be blue, his clothes blue..blue tee- shirts, blue jeans, blue shorts and then he even wants ME to wear blue all the time. In fact at times, he even wants a blue Bournvita and when obviously he can’t have it, he gets real aggressive. Maybe its about time I should meet Nestle people and ask them to manufacture a new blue variant of Bournvita :) </div>
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<img align="left" alt="Blue" border="0" height="180" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-y3r3-DO2y7w/TeMAC-0go3I/AAAAAAAAAd0/gdTBJ_epKlY/DSCN0196%25255B10%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; margin: 0px 10px 0px 0px;" title="Blue" width="219" /> Just a few days ago, I took Shaurya along with me to my salon and as I was getting my nails done he jumped up at the color palette and got all excited and told me, “Mamma, close your eyes, I have a surprise for you..” and so I did and to my surprise he had a nail paint in his hand and well.. yes, it was a nice electric blue shade and I had no other option but to get it applied so as to please him. </div>
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<img align="right" alt="Shaurya" border="0" height="260" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-sq8bDCOX5Qw/TeMADSSFlPI/AAAAAAAAAd4/_wnE1HLqEtE/DSCN0323%25255B17%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; margin: 0px 0px 0px 15px;" title="Shaurya" width="187" />I am sure it is only a matter of days before he gets over his ‘blues’ and finds something else to fancy, but just as a passing thought, I hope that when he grows up he shows little concern so as to do something once in a while just to please his old mommy here, just the way she is doing it now. But then, I guess, even if he doesn’t do that, as a mother I would love him just as much.</div>
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I shall try and write in more in days ahead, but for now I need to go out and give Shaurya his new blue kurta. </div>
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Shaurya's Chronicleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17597205740465528015noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7856342071457113896.post-28379149165575495692011-03-31T11:00:00.000+05:302013-03-16T18:13:07.300+05:30The Zoo and The Sweet Ride…<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Not many years ago there was a Mastercard advertisement playing on TV which went something like “Toys for the baby – 2000 rupees, watching him play with a cardboard box – Priceless !! There are certain things money can’t buy…” I guess I ran into a similar incident in recent past myself. </div>
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It was one of the finer, sunnier, winter mornings on a Saturday couple of weeks ago, when I decided to spend the entire day with Shaurya. I thought about planning the day with all possible things that he would like and decided to take him to some place where he could enjoy himself to the hilt. </div>
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I zeroed down on the National Zoological Gardens (aka Delhi Zoo) as the place to go to and considered taking the metro as trains are his recent fixation and I really thought it would be a new experience for him.</div>
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<img align="left" alt="Shaurya at Zoo" border="0" height="200" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_hvn_dMhaoAE/TZSNrqTs8NI/AAAAAAAAAdo/qm7It51VbmY/DSC02536%5B19%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; margin: 0px 10px 0px 0px;" title="Shaurya at Zoo" width="227" />So, off we went – mother and son, hand in hand catching the Metro to the Khan Market and taking an auto-rickshaw to the zoo. We got off, bought the tickets and went inside. The first thing that I realized immediately after walking in through the gate was that a trip to the zoo translated to a lot of walking. The area to be covered was huge and it would be difficult for my little prince to walk all the way to the cages and animal shelters. Luckily, we could find autos plying inside the zoo and could find ourselves a good ride right away. The auto – driver doubled up as the tourist guide and knew his way well. </div>
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Now I don’t remember if I, as a little girl, was fascinated about going to a zoo myself but I guess as we grow up, we get certain fixed ideas about how children should be raised and things that they would supposedly like and enjoy. While I seriously believed that Shaurya would be ecstatic about watching the animals closely, I was a little taken aback at his not wanting to get off the auto at all to see the animals.</div>
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<img align="left" alt="Shaurya at Zoo" border="0" height="200" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_hvn_dMhaoAE/TZSNsfu7opI/AAAAAAAAAds/UIUpwB9v0Jg/DSC02542%5B3%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; margin: 0px 10px 0px 0px;" title="Shaurya at Zoo" width="260" /> Whenever we got off it to see an animal like a Giraffe, a Tiger or even elephants, he kept looking backwards to check if the auto was still there. The only thing that enthused him was the auto and all he wanted to do was sit and enjoy his ride. I kept coaxing him to step out whenever it stopped, but he would do so very reluctantly only to get back on it as soon as possible. </div>
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The tour finally ended with Shaurya actually spending more time looking out from the side of the auto-rickshaw than watching the animals through their cages. We got off, went out and waited for another ride to the Metro station for our way back.</div>
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Now, my junior Einstein, remembered the names of the places we had crossed earlier in the day and so even before I could call out to another auto and ask him to take us to our destination, Shaurya started calling out to the auto wallas passing by to take us to khan market. Strangely, many of them refused to go to that side and my little one felt that I probably did not wish to take him on an auto. <img align="right" alt="3 wheeler 2b" border="0" height="84" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_hvn_dMhaoAE/TZSNs7u_71I/AAAAAAAAAdw/J9-VcqSg1hU/3%20wheeler%202b%5B6%5D.png?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; margin: 0px 0px 0px 10px;" title="3 wheeler 2b" width="116" />So, he stopped right in the middle of the road and turned around and asked me, “Do you even want me to go on an auto?”. This came off as some funny surprise and I was rendered speechless for a moment to see him, assert himself like that. </div>
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Luckily, I found one that very minute who agreed to take us and once back, we spent the rest of the day at home with me cooking his favorite things for dinner and him narrating his experiences of the day, standing by my side in the kitchen.</div>
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I see the day as one that carried an important lesson for me that no matter if, as a mother you want and wish the best for your child, he or she would eventually grow up to be his own person with his own set of likes, needs and wants and at some point in time you shall have to break the mould of your own thoughts and give the reigns of your kid’s life to him. Perhaps, the zoo trip was the first step towards that final destination. Maybe when that happens, he shall want to decide for me as well and would try and guide my course of actions too. </div>
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Well, I shall leave upon time to decide how we walk through that path then. For now, I shall sit back and think about our next possible outing together. Maybe this time, I shall hire an auto for the entire day and take him around for a long ride alone without bothering about things and places to see. </div>
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Shall write about it when it happens…</div>
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Shaurya's Chronicleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17597205740465528015noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7856342071457113896.post-48609005437059673532011-02-22T11:00:00.000+05:302013-03-16T18:13:20.166+05:30Rhyme Time - Level II<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I remember writing about the power of nursery rhymes and Shaurya’s enthusiasm with it. (Read about it <a href="http://shauryamidha.blogspot.com/2009/10/rhyme-time.html" target="_blank"><strong>HERE</strong></a>). I guess his interest with rhymes and poems has risen one level and he has now started creating his own lyrics. </div>
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Though the words don’t rhyme as well and one can’t really expect a philosophy behind the words except for pure fun from a 4 year old, but for me as a mother, the experience of him trying his hand at new things and embarking on fresh creative ventures is an emotional experience of sorts.</div>
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One of his favorite creations is a little limerick about an Aeroplane. I guess the story behind this song is his latest wish to go and visit his Kusum Masi in Canada and his recent trip to Pune when he boarded a Kingfisher flight. He loves standing in the balcony and calls out to the planes he sees in the sky to stop by and take him along. </div>
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The song goes something like this…</div>
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Aeroplane, aeroplane flying in the sky <br />Kingfisher is flying too high in the sky</div>
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It zooms and goes and we say goodbye <br />Up to the rainbow it goes to Canada!</div>
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I took a few pictures while he was busy being the aeroplane.</div>
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<img alt="Shaurya Aeroplane" border="0" height="260" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_hvn_dMhaoAE/TWN7DtZXsaI/AAAAAAAAAdg/zVmp3Vx79NQ/DSC02480%5B6%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline;" title="Shaurya Aeroplane" width="333" /> <img alt="Shaurya Aeroplane" border="0" height="260" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_hvn_dMhaoAE/TWN7ErxYUrI/AAAAAAAAAdk/Bn-vYKe8IzU/DSC02481%5B5%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline;" title="Shaurya Aeroplane" width="161" /> </div>
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Maybe a couple of years down the line my little angel would feel a little embarrassed about my taking this liberty to publish his work like this for all the world to read, but I guess my intent here, is not to seek any accolades for his work but to document about his early streak of creativity and his attachment for his dear Masi.</div>
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And the story doesn’t end with Shaurya making his own lyrics, I am led to believe that he has some serious flair for singing as well. A few days ago, it so happened that he asked me for a chocolate and I bought him a regular Dairy Milk. </div>
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As soon as we came back and sat, he came around and asked me to close my eyes and then sang the ‘Dairy Milk’ advertisement jingle “”Kiss me...close your eyes...I can read your lips...” and I could just not stop laughing at the way he sang it aloud. </div>
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Somehow, dear son, you never cease to amaze me. I just hope that you maintain your creative zest and add more talents to your personality and groom out to be one fine gentleman in days to come. For now, as your mom, I shall just enjoy whatever little that you attempt and happen to like. </div>
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Love you.</div>
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Shaurya's Chronicleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17597205740465528015noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7856342071457113896.post-25159863595460697882011-02-07T15:30:00.001+05:302013-03-16T18:14:03.913+05:30Car Ko Maaro…<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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“I remember writing about Shaurya getting a cut on his head a few months ago, this time he got himself a nasty bruise on his fingers…<a href="http://shauryamidha.blogspot.com/2009/04/those-days.html" target="_blank"><strong>The Ouch Days</strong></a> continue I guess…”</div>
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My little one got another lesson in safety recently. Everyday, after my school is over, I pick Shaurya from his ‘Da-Ma’s’ house and we normally drive home chatting and laughing. He is normally well behaved in the car and doesn’t create a ruckus and listens to what I have to say to him. I guess this just happened to be a special day when he was in his super playful mood and extremely naughty. I warned him that he might get hurt but my hero for once chose to ignore what his mamma had to say and didn’t pay attention to all what I was telling him. </div>
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We got off the car and as I turned around to take out his school bag and water bottle from the back seat he managed to sneak behind me and kept running his hands around the door. I picked up his stuff and closed the door and as soon as I did that, Shaurya gave out a loud cry. I nearly jumped out of my skin when I looked at him. He stood there crying and looking at me helplessly, trying to pull out his fingers from where they had stuck in the door.</div>
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I opened the door quickly to free his fingers which by then had already swollen. He was howling and tears rolled down his cheeks. I hugged him tight and could feel his entire body shivering in fright. I guess he was terrified and got scared by the fact that his favorite car could hurt him.</div>
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I took him inside the house and we sat on the stairs and as I hugged him again and rubbed and pressed his fingers and he said “Mamma, car ne mujhe uui kar dii, aap car ko maar do, aap usko zor se daant laga do”.</div>
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I told him that the car was not to be blamed and he was the one who was being naughty, but he wasn’t willing to understand anything. I guess the only way I could pacify him was to side with him and agree to what he had to say. So, I went out with him and scolded the car loudly to make him feel better. </div>
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Later when I managed to take him upstairs, I made him wash his hands, applied some medicine and turned on his favorite cartoon channel. In a short while, his pain eased out and he got engrossed in his show. </div>
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While I knew I was not entirely at fault here but I could not help feeling guilty for not being overtly careful with my dear little prince and held his hand for a long long time. </div>
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Even when I tried to get up, he never let me move away from him not because he was in pain, but because my little hero had his head resting on my shoulder and wanted me look at his fingers after every fifteen minutes or so.</div>
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Looking back at the incident I guess, I still should be thankful to God that the damage done was controllable and that he got over the pain in a short while. I believe it gives the mother son duo a lesson to remember that accidents hurt but being careful doesn’t. Ever since this happened, I double ensure that he is not playing around doors and even he is careful that he listens to me whenever I ask him to be careful. </div>
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<img align="left" alt="umbrella" border="0" height="145" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_hvn_dMhaoAE/TU_CwGSUgXI/AAAAAAAAAdc/EEz48TCXRAM/umbrella%5B10%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; margin: 0px 10px 0px 0px;" title="umbrella" width="157" /> So, maybe all is well that ends well. Just hope that he keeps up being my ‘good boy’ and pays heed to all that I tell him for his good. Probably in a few years he would want to argue and tell me that he doesn’t need me to think for him and that maybe he can take care of himself and things like that.. for now, let me just hold the umbrella up and shield you from all bad weather son. </div>
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Take care and Love you so much !!!</div>
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Shaurya's Chronicleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17597205740465528015noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7856342071457113896.post-22427933281339117352011-01-31T11:00:00.000+05:302013-03-16T18:14:17.460+05:30Shaurya Turns Four !!!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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“Candles and Cakes and Sweets galore, </div>
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Fun and laughter and joys to soar, </div>
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I wish and pray there’s so much more, </div>
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On my angel’s day as he turns four ”</div>
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<a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_hvn_dMhaoAE/TUbI67QKMII/AAAAAAAAAdA/XTimsqpRig8/s1600-h/blog4%5B8%5D.jpg"><img align="left" alt="blog4" border="0" height="210" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_hvn_dMhaoAE/TUbI7Yg1a8I/AAAAAAAAAdE/DDAGwJa0fWY/blog4_thumb%5B10%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; margin: 0px 15px 0px 0px;" title="blog4" width="220" /></a> Fourth year for Shaurya and our parenthood. I have celebrated and enjoyed every little moment of my motherhood and the entire family and I eagerly await his day and try our best to shower our love and make it special for him. If last year we had multiple parties for him (Read ‘<a href="http://shauryamidha.blogspot.com/2010/01/shaurya-turns-3.html" target="_blank">Shaurya turns three</a>’), this year it was all quality family time. The weather Gods were pretty severe this winter and it was extremely cold on his birthday (January 8) and sparing a thought for all the grandparents and little kids on the guest list, we decided to have a small get together and dinner at home itself. </div>
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I did write about his special bonding with my dad in my last post and since my little prince’s Nanz and Nani were here with him to celebrate his special day, it made him feel all the more special and he couldn’t really hide his joy.</div>
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<strong><u>The Early Start</u></strong></div>
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<a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_hvn_dMhaoAE/TUbI8IxKQBI/AAAAAAAAAdI/O1O2JTV8ZDU/s1600-h/blog2%5B5%5D.jpg"><img align="right" alt="blog2" border="0" height="260" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_hvn_dMhaoAE/TUbI83JXrhI/AAAAAAAAAdM/AadqUEKLzHQ/blog2_thumb%5B8%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; margin: 0px 0px 0px 15px;" title="blog2" width="253" /></a>Shaurya’s birthday celebrations started early in the morning, when his ‘Da-Ma’ and Chachu came over with loads of balloons and streamers and chocolates etc. I must thank his Chachu for getting the balloons and inflating them and getting them over for Shaurya to see as soon as he opened his eyes. Though my little prince doesn’t take it very well when he is disturbed from his peaceful slumber, he was particularly thrilled to see everyone and loved his balloons. </div>
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<strong><u>Later</u>,</strong> </div>
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Since we thought of having the dinner at home, I decided to do everything myself. Shaurya’s Nani pitched in and I along with due help from Shaurya’s favourite Mohini Aunty went about the task of preparing the dinner. My phone did not stop ringing with wishes from everyone in the family. By late afternoon, his ‘Amaanshu and Pinkal’ came over to wish him like all previous years and my hero was quite happy to be the centre of attention and loved the pampering. </div>
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Early evening his ‘Da-Ma’ called up and wanted to take Shaurya shopping. I guess this was perhaps the only part of the day which did not go as planned partly because most of the stores were done with their new year and Christmas stocks and partly because we did not go with a clear agenda on what to buy for him. As it happened, we returned empty handed however, for Shaurya it was just an extension of his good time and he kind of enjoyed his ride to the Mall and his little outing of the day.</div>
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<strong><u>The Dinner…</u></strong></div>
The dinner was great and went on as planned. It was a small party with his Masi and ‘Dimple Dad’ and ‘Bunny Bhaiya’ coming over and others in the family. Though I had prepared food as per Shaurya’s liking, he decided that he wanted to have a pizza instead. (It was almost like you buy a nice expensive toy for a child and he ends up liking the box it came in more than the toy). Well, I did try coaxing him into having his favorite ‘Pooris’ but then on his insistance finally ordered a pizza for him. We stayed on watching some TV and Shaurya sat with his Nanz and kept talking to him non stop. Even if his Nanz went to the washroom to wash hands or just to turn the geyser on, he followed him around and went about imitating him. Probably had we not literally dragged him to bed with us, he would have clung onto his Nanz and wouldn’t have allowed them to leave the next morning. <br />
<strong><u>Just before I slept</u></strong><br />
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<a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_hvn_dMhaoAE/TUbI9shFjQI/AAAAAAAAAdQ/7mfaIJkIgM0/s1600-h/blog1%5B7%5D.jpg"><img align="left" alt="blog1" border="0" height="220" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_hvn_dMhaoAE/TUbI-fCvS0I/AAAAAAAAAdU/VzyVaPkCOFw/blog1_thumb%5B11%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; margin: 0px 15px 0px 0px;" title="blog1" width="211" /></a> As I tucked Shaurya in and switched off the light, I reflected upon the day and the life gone by - another day had ended and another year began for Shaurya. He is four now and would be forty one day. I don’t know if I shall be there by his side that long but I guess I would always love him as much. When I play around with him I call him by a hundred names out of affection (Mau billi, koki poki, kuchi mau, shonu baby, gucchu pucchu, paaru….). Most of these don’t make much sense and often are invented on the fly. It surprises me at times when he responds and I am amazed at how he always gets to know that I am calling him.</div>
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I guess, with time he shall learn to be self reliant and will no longer need me for taking his decisions. We are the ones who decide his guest list for his birthdays now and there would be a day (perhaps not very far from now) when he would ask us to stay away from his parties and friends. Maybe, I would hate it then. Maybe I shall try and seek his attention and bug him even more, I don’t know. </div>
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All I know is that I would always wish the best for him and would try and be there as long as I can. Love you mau billi…and yes, a very Happy Birthday once again.</div>
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Shaurya's Chronicleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17597205740465528015noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7856342071457113896.post-83029387945743106212011-01-20T19:00:00.000+05:302013-03-16T18:14:30.979+05:30Nana Ji to Nanz..<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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“This post is about Shaurya’s recent interaction with my Dad - his Nana Ji. I remember as children, we were all a little intimidated by his personality. It was such a welcome change to see his fondness for Shaurya and the way Shaurya hung around him during the course of their stay…”</div>
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I guess, in a typical Indian family setup and specially if you consider a decade or two ago, children automatically had a tendency to have a greater affiliation for the mother than the father. The mother in the family was the one who would attend to all your needs and took care of you and acted like a natural sponge – soaking in your anger and pain at times and oozing out love for you whenever you wanted some. The father on the other hand was the natural head of the family, the maker of all rules and preserver of decorum and order in the house. He would be the one you would naturally be scared of and usually refrained from making needless chit-chat or opening up too freely about your day to day routine.</div>
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Me and my siblings always adhered to certain rules when it came to our Dad. The implicit unstated norms were not to disturb him when he was saying his prayers, having his food or watching his daily news on TV. We would normally avoid any and all conversation at these ‘zoned’ times and would wait for him to be free. </div>
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It was the week of Shaurya’s fourth birthday and the first time that my parents came over to stay with us after Shaurya came into our lives. </div>
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As soon as Shaurya met his ‘Nana Ji’, he took a sudden liking for him and then probably did all what I could not even think of doing in my dreams even to this date. My little angel was just too willing to share all his toys with him and be around him all the time he could. So when his dear Nana Ji sat down for his one hour long prayers and ‘Paath Session’, Shaurya would sit right next to him and keep doing his colouring work or scribble on his white board. </div>
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<a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_hvn_dMhaoAE/TTg7RckAjxI/AAAAAAAAAck/omLcz2ryeLI/s1600-h/DSC0235622.jpg"><img align="left" alt="Shaurya & Nanz" border="0" height="270" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_hvn_dMhaoAE/TTg7SCJxunI/AAAAAAAAAco/QGijT3vg3Rw/DSC02356_thumb24.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; margin: 0px 15px 0px 0px;" title="Shaurya & Nanz" width="150" /></a> When his Nana Ji sat in the Sun with his newspaper, Shaurya would sit next to him and talk endlessly. He would accompany him to the dining table and would sit next to him and go on with his stories. I was expecting my Dad to come up with his standard ‘No talking while eating’ message for Shaurya but to my surprise he was unusually patient with Shaurya. My hero would go on and on and talk to him about his coloring books and toys and school and probably everything under the Sun that he could think of while his Nana Ji tried to juggle his attention between his stories and the news channels on TV, </div>
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So Nana ji became Shaurya’s best friend and his confidante. Whenever we went out Shaurya would not leave his Nana Ji’s hand and would walk alongside. He started calling him ‘Dadda’ (as we call him daddy) and then Nana Ji was soon shortened to ‘Nanz’. </div>
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On one of the days, I drove my parents around for a short sight-seeing tour and we went to Humayun’s tomb. Shaurya had great fun with his ‘Nanz’ and did not let go of his hand at all. Even on his birthday he behaved like his ‘Nanz’ shadow and would even stand the way he did. </div>
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<a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_hvn_dMhaoAE/TTg7c8F0gJI/AAAAAAAAAcw/Xo0Y1yU6g4Y/s1600-h/DSC0240111.jpg"><img align="right" alt="DSC02401" border="0" height="250" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_hvn_dMhaoAE/TTg7dpanMwI/AAAAAAAAAc0/8LHWp6c50eg/DSC02401_thumb13.jpg?imgmax=800" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; margin: 0px 0px 0px 15px;" title="DSC02401" width="213" /></a> Now Shaurya had recently been talking about wanting to meet his favorite Kusum Maasi and his cousin Saanya and kept asking his ‘Nanz’ to take him to Canada to see them. So, for once we thought that this was the basic reason behind his new found love and that the main motive was a trip to Canada. But once his Nana, Nani went back to Chandigarh, I realized that there was no selfish desire behind all the attention he was showering on his Nana Ji. He kept missing them as much once they went back and wanted to speak to his ‘Nanz’ and narrate all his stories to him. </div>
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I had read a quote from Sam Levinson which said “The reason that grandparents and grandchildren get along so well is that they have a common enemy”. I am not sure if that exactly is the case here but I am sure I agree more with Victor Hugo’s saying that “There can be fathers who do not love their children but there is no grandfather who does not adore his grandson”. Just hope that Shaurya gets to spend more quality time with his ‘Nanz’ and that he cherishes these fond memories for a lifetime. </div>
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Shaurya's Chronicleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17597205740465528015noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7856342071457113896.post-90701805429166520602011-01-19T10:30:00.000+05:302011-01-19T10:39:06.180+05:30Tummy Mein ‘ऊईईईइ’<blockquote> <p align="justify">“Now this one is a short and crisp post on recent changes in Shaurya’s behaviour with respect to his taking medicines”.</p> </blockquote> <p align="justify">It so happens that 1 – 2 years ago when Shaurya was still a baby it was very difficult to give him any kind of medicine or syrup. We always dreaded Shaurya’s illness and prayed for him not to fall ill at all because it meant a harrowing time for us. He would simply not take in any kind of syrup even if it was sweetened and flavored and if we forced it into him, he would poke his little fingers in his throat and puke it out. </p> <p align="justify">This implied that his being sick would automatically mean a huge load of clothes for washing and sleepless nights for me and since he still did not take any kind of syrup it would prolong his sickness a bit as well. However, what was strange was the fact that he got hooked onto taking a tablet at a very early stage. I guess, he was as young as a year and a half when he took his first tablet. So, if anyone in the family was taking in a tablet, he played ape and wanted one for himself as well.</p> <p align="justify">However in recent times there has been a significant change in him. I have mentioned in my previous posts how fond he is, of his cousin Saanya and about his fascination for colors. The two facts combined well when Saanya was visiting him few weeks ago and he closely observed how she would gladly lick one of her pink stomach ache syrups. In fact an evidence of his liking for ‘Saanu’ dear came to fore when he started insisting on having the same pink syrup which she would have.</p> <p align="justify">What is even more amusing is the fact that he has now started putting up little acts to demand that syrup. He would suddenly pretend to double up in pain and run to me saying “Mamma tummy में  बहुत ज़ोर से उई हो रही है, pink medicine देनी पड़ेगी”. Thankfully this syrup is all natural and so if he insists a lot, I give him one fourth of a spoon and play along. </p> <p align="justify"><img title="Shaurya" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin: 0px 10px 0px 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="280" alt="Shaurya" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_hvn_dMhaoAE/TTZx7ovgaoI/AAAAAAAAAcg/7wat_EjyxRM/Humayuns38.jpg?imgmax=800" width="158" align="left" border="0" />I wonder at times how children pick up the tricks to play and pretend and then come up and try and put an act before their folks to get what they want. Maybe the coming years shall see him try and fool me for more complex things and perhaps for circumventing his way out of trouble. Maybe then, I would be tempted to box his ears a bit. </p> <p align="justify">I guess for now, I shall just put my feet up and enjoy his antics. Perhaps one of these days in a few years from now, I would pull up this story when he brings his kids to me and complains that they are just not taking the medicine. :)</p> Shaurya's Chronicleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17597205740465528015noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7856342071457113896.post-14563988525200084442011-01-17T19:30:00.000+05:302011-01-18T14:49:38.530+05:30"सकते नहीं हैं…"<blockquote> <p align="justify">“I think I need to tender my apologies to all my readers for the lackadaisical attitude I have shown towards this blog. I believe Shaurya is the only one who will side with me on the fact that his mamma has been extremely busy with her hands full of never ending tasks. I am hoping that I would be able to turn things around a bit and make a few quick updates about all the things that happened in last few months and do a lot better than last year…Let’s see”.</p> </blockquote> <p align="justify">This is about Shaurya developing his own lingo. </p> <p align="justify">Well, it’s been some time that my hero has started using full sentences  and has attained a better grasp on his language and is talking a lot, so I feel that I will dedicate a couple of posts just to this topic. </p> <p align="justify">So Shaurya has his pet phrases and he uses them at will, while narrating anecdotes about what happens around him, whether at school or at home. One of his favourites is "सकते हैं"  or "सकते नहीं हैं" . </p> <p align="justify">If there is something which he thinks he can do, instead of saying the whole sentence as "यह काम कर सकते हैं" he says "सकते हैं" and for something that he thinks can not be done, he says "सकते नहीं हैं"  instead of saying “"कर नहीं सकते".</p> <p align="justify">It becomes incredibly funny specially on times when everyone is listening to him or while he is being asked something serious and he comes up with a curt “No, सकते नहीं हैं" !!!</p> <p align="justify"><img title="Pune (3)" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin: 0px 10px 0px 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="246" alt="Pune (3)" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_hvn_dMhaoAE/TTUuYGsKEyI/AAAAAAAAAcc/kI-Yk5jjXaw/Pune%20%283%29%5B10%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="145" align="left" border="0" /> The weather has been exceptionally cold in the last few days and being a mother I can’t help pointing out things for him. As a matter of precaution I have been telling him not to have cold water, ice creams, cold drinks etc. And so whenever he stepped into the kitchen, I would tell him, ‘’Shaurya, don’t have cold water’’ and likewise. </p> <p align="justify">I guess he got tired of listening to the same things again and again and so one day he told me.. ”Mamma, I’m going to have water, और अब आप मुझे मना सकते नहीं हैं (I am going to have water and you can’t stop me now)”!!! </p> <p align="justify">I was slightly taken aback by his outburst but my surprise soon turned to amusement and I kept smiling thinking about his will to assert himself and use words as per the situation.</p> <p align="justify">At other times he has many more things to say, for eg. "मुझे समझ नहीं आ रहा"…."मैं बहुत परेशान हूँ" and very often I just keep looking at him with amazement at his choice of phrases and his grasp of the context of a conversation.</p> <p align="justify">I guess it is about time I changed my perception of him as just a little child to a young kid conscious of his will, likes, dislikes and of course his right to exercise his freedom of speech as well.</p> Shaurya's Chronicleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17597205740465528015noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7856342071457113896.post-68248639147064570462010-12-06T22:30:00.000+05:302010-12-06T23:00:19.561+05:30“Hair” is the Shear Story…<blockquote> <p align="justify">“January, June and now December, I guess this year I have been exceptionally rogue when it came to updating my blog. 3 posts in the entire year so far – I guess it’s more or less unforgivable now. Maybe I can still turn things around a bit and make a few quick updates about all the things that happened in last few months…Let’s see”.</p> </blockquote> <p align="justify">This happened couple of weeks ago. </p> <p align="justify">I had nearly exhausted myself at the school and was looking forward to the approaching weekend. There were scores of errands to run and I kind of knew that I would be sucked into some routine cleaning task unless I really planned well in advance to steal a few moments for myself. </p> <p align="justify">After much deliberation and careful scheming, I managed to rope in Suraj (Shaurya’s much adored “Mamu”) along with Shaurya’s Daddy and ‘Chachu’ for babysitting him while I filled in for a spa session at the nearby salon. However, little did I know what the day ahead had in store for Shaurya and me. </p> <p align="justify">As I moved out of the house, I heard Shaurya’s Daddy remind me that even Shaurya’s haircut was due and hinted at me to take him along and to get him a haircut as well. Now, convincing Shaurya to get a haircut is a herculean task. Let me be a little more discreet here. Shaurya somehow got scared while getting his hair snipped in a previous haircut session and now would just not sit straight at the barber’s. He made sure that he got the roof down with all his howling and protest and made his haircut a harrowing experience for everyone else as well. After a long and tiresome week, I was convinced to the core that I had done enough in the past week to earn myself a few hours of relaxation and perhaps with a view to get him spend some time with the ‘men’ in the house, suggested that maybe Daddy dearest could take care of the haircut and went off. </p> <p align="justify">I returned in about two hours to witness, what I can only term as mental torture for my little angel. Shaurya was sitting with what looked like a crisscross of patches and frizz all over his head. His head was shaven in a disarrayed jigsaw with his scalp jutting out in portions. I almost shrieked in horror looking at Shaurya as he sat playing innocently with his toy train unable to fully understand and comprehend what he had just been subjected to. To top it all - the trinity (Daddy, Chachu and Mamu) stood there smiling and marveling at what they believed was a masterpiece in hair styling. I still can’t believe that they expected me to shower in a word of appreciation or feel some gratitude for what they had just ‘committed’.</p> <p align="justify"><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_hvn_dMhaoAE/TP0V6USplMI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/KeflMj01pXo/s1600-h/IMG00027-20100902-1814%5B12%5D.jpg"><img title="IMG00027-20100902-1814" style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; margin: 0px 10px 0px 0px; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="208" alt="IMG00027-20100902-1814" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_hvn_dMhaoAE/TP0V67SOX9I/AAAAAAAAAaU/jj554Trd7_4/IMG00027-20100902-1814_thumb%5B10%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="268" align="left" border="0" /></a> As soon as my little champ saw me, the first thing he said was <em>“I don’t like this, Daddy, Chahcu aur Mamu ne yeh kiya (as he pointed to his head)...bahot uui kari”</em> He tried telling me that they had cut his hair forcibly and probably held him tight while his Suraj Mamu used the machine to shave off his head. Since Shaurya can’t really sit still while having a haircut and these people were no coiffure specialists their task was left unfinished and as a result Shaurya was left with those tell-tale small patches of hair on his head. </p> <p align="justify"><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_hvn_dMhaoAE/TP0V7pGnI8I/AAAAAAAAAaY/0R5AAL-Lhko/s1600-h/IMG00038-20100902-1823%5B15%5D.jpg"><img title="IMG00038-20100902-1823" style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; margin: 0px 0px 0px 10px; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="260" alt="IMG00038-20100902-1823" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_hvn_dMhaoAE/TP0V8dkRHPI/AAAAAAAAAac/SFx7MR70ecE/IMG00038-20100902-1823_thumb%5B16%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="219" align="right" border="0" /></a> The only resort left now was to shave the remaining hair on Shaurya’s head to give him an even look. It took a lot of cajoling and coaxing to convince Shaurya to agree to sit still and get a bald look. As a mother, I felt really bad for him. It was both heartbreaking and funny to see him look into the mirror and frown for next few days. Every time he saw his reflection, his hands inadvertently went up to his head and he almost came to the brink of tears. The first thing he would then say was “Look..my hair are all gone.”</p> <p align="justify">As a teacher I often see young students try different hairdos, at times making a complete fool of themselves in an attempt to look ‘cool’. Don’t know if the years ahead shall also see Shaurya develop similar traits and spending valuable time before the mirror and getting picky about the clothes and hair styles. Maybe I would then stop seeing this as funny but for now I guess I can look back at his innocent ways and smile in love at his ordeal. </p> <p align="justify">Hair or no hair, I guess I love you just as much sonny boy.</p> Shaurya's Chronicleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17597205740465528015noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7856342071457113896.post-36214768002317352402010-06-03T02:07:00.000+05:302010-06-03T10:33:23.441+05:30First Day At School<blockquote> <p align="justify">Funny that my previous post also began with an apology about being irregular in updating the blog. I guess, life at times just doesn’t give you a breather. You are left being a spectator to your own life and all what is happening to you… Just hope I am not rusted too much..</p> </blockquote> <p align="justify">Few months ago I had written about Shaurya starting his play school. (Read about it <a href="http://shauryamidha.blogspot.com/2008/12/baby-day-out-shaurya-goes-to-play.html"><strong><font color="#ff0000">HERE</font></strong></a>). Much has happened since then and now when he has finally stepped into a different world and has started going to a bigger school for his formal education. </p> <p align="justify">Maybe someday I shall also write about all the hassles that parents these days have to go through to seek admission for their ward in an institute of their liking but I guess I shall let this post only talk about Shaurya’s first big day at his new big school.</p> <p align="justify"><img title="DSC0042" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin: 0px 10px 0px 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="280" alt="DSC0042" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_hvn_dMhaoAE/TAbC8j9hMuI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/kNQthmVV21g/DSC0042%5B7%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="127" align="left" border="0" /> It was the morning of Monday, April 5, 2010 when Shaurya stepped out of the house for his formal schooling. Though, we had prepped him for his big day, I guess he had little idea what he was getting into. We, as his family, were obviously more excited. </p> <p align="justify">I woke him up in time and got him ready in the morning for his school. I had bought him a new water bottle and he was elated. He hung his favorite ‘monkey’ backpack and was all beaming and raring to go. I had heard plenty of horror stories from friends and colleagues about the torrid time that they faced when their children went off to school for the first time howling and crying and wailing their heart out. Personally I was a bit scared that he might find it difficult to cope up in a new environment and that we shall end up in a similar situation. However, to our surprise he was all at ease and really made me proud as a mother. I guess all his training at the play school finally paid off. </p> <p align="justify">His daddy and his Da-Ma went to drop him at his school. I was truly relieved when they came back and told me that my little champ had a great time and had settled comfortably in his new surroundings. </p> <p align="justify"><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_hvn_dMhaoAE/TAbC9cOOrYI/AAAAAAAAAaA/alXOQIcCBDs/s1600-h/DSC0043%5B4%5D.jpg"><img title="DSC0043" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 10px; border-right-width: 0px" height="268" alt="DSC0043" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_hvn_dMhaoAE/TAbC-Sr18PI/AAAAAAAAAaE/-00acibQWtA/DSC0043_thumb%5B2%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="136" align="right" border="0" /></a> Two days later, he started his school bus. Though it was still first week of April, but it had become reasonably hot. The school bus was a regular DTC bus and his Daddy kept worrying about his little Prince all the while and expected to see him come back all hassled and whining about the bus or the weather. </p> <p align="justify">Instead, when he went to pick him up from the bus stop, he found Shaurya all smiling and enjoying sitting on the front seat right behind the driver (it still is his favourite seat). It was amazing to see him all beaming and as he got down, the first thing Shaurya said to his Daady was, “Daddy, see it’s a blue bus… I like the school… I like the bus… Bahot maza aayi!!!” </p> <p align="justify">Well, all in all, he is happy and settled at his new school and is loving the bus rides to and fro. I guess the next thing that I am waiting to see is how he takes his lessons and the kind of skills and talents he picks up and demonstrates at school.</p> <p align="justify">I guess we as his parents shall do all that is necessary and in his interest to learn and imbibe all what is meaningful and important to become a responsible adult with a sound intellect, balanced head and a compassionate heart. </p> <blockquote> <p align="justify">In that sense Son, I hope that when you are old enough to read this post and understand it, be reminded that It is possible to fill one’s head with a million facts and still remain entirely uneducated. I would then want you to question yourself and answer if you have been able to gather the true essence of education or just confined yourself to pursue good grades.</p></blockquote> Shaurya's Chronicleshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17597205740465528015noreply@blogger.com2