That little faggot got his own jet airplane That little faggot, he’s a millionaire

I was in a bit of a funk today. My brain was playing its eternal what-am-I-doing-with-my-life monologue and I decided to settle it once and for all. So I went online and took a bunch of BuzzFeed quizzes to chart my own career path. Turns out I’m born to be a surgeon. Or a chef. Or a restaurant owner. Okay, close enough.

Armed with that expert knowledge, I tried to work out if I could indeed be somebody in this lifetime. When I was in school I had a clear vision about what I wanted to be — an award- winning journalist. I had to first tackle engineering though because that’s a rite of passage as far as my family is concerned. My grades were stellar all through school but in college I slipped majorly. I was a flunkie student with arrears the first two years.

I wanted to drop out of college, work at a cafe and moonlight as a writer/journalist. I’d dread going back home because I received a slap on my face from my dad when he came to know I’d flunked an exam. My mother cried inconsolably. And it was all too much to take. I’d lock myself up in my room and play November Rain and Winds Of Change on loop while being an emotional wreck. Thank god for music.

I managed to pick myself up eventually and even featured in the top 4 in my department in my final year, got a job that I was sure I’d hate but it was nice to have one. I lasted five months in the job (including the two months of training) and I was miserable. I just couldn’t get a hang of programming no matter how hard I tried. It went way over my head. It wasn’t what I was trained to do and I had no intention of becoming a civil engineer ( which is what I studied in college).

But I made it to ACJ – I’d wanted to study there ever since I heard about it in school and in the midst of my catastrophic GMAT scores and a possible MBA seat at Anna University, this came as a big big relief. I was working at a great publication in Madras and all was good but I felt trapped. Invisible. Saturated. And that seems to be the theme of my life all along.

The reason why I’ve narrated my oh-so-colourful (not) life history is because I don’t have the vision I had as a 15-year-old. I don’t see myself doing anything exciting. Yet I look around me and see women, men, new moms, old people do sensational work: I know of so many people who’ve followed their dream and started their own venture, whether it’s a home-baking business or a dream library. I don’t want to be an employee at a big firm and slave for hours together for a measly paycheque. But I do want to create something of value and make some money and have a career in the process. I’m just not sure what it is and I don’t seem to have the clarity and the vision at the moment.

But I have time. I’m much more relaxed now that I’ve weaned my little baby and put her in daycare for a few hours on weekdays. Which creates additional pressure to be productive, to do something and monetise it because now I have a block of time for myself. Sure I read, watch my favourite shows, drink coffee, walk, talk to friends and sort out the home but I must do more.

I’ve been a big disappointment to my folks, both professionally and personally. And my overachieving family with its NRI CEO cousins and highly influential uncles and aunts clearly looks down upon me for choosing this life. For giving up my job. For being an average journalist without credentials. Of course, success is subjective and it’s what you make of it personally yet I can’t tell if my idea of success is my own or if it’s something that has been drilled down into my head by family. It’s hard to tell them apart at this stage.

But my quest to do something worthwhile continues. For now, let me slurp my Maggi noodles and binge watch Gilmore Girls until D is back home.

Title flicked from Money For Nothing by Dire Straits

Secret lives, self-help jargon and honesty

I’m about to inflict another unrelated, incoherent list without as much as a warning. Take this.

1.) I inhabit a parallel universe for the most part of the day. In said universe, I’m the protagonist, I always say the funniest things and I have doting friends and family. In this version of The Secret Life Of Walter Mitty, I may not swoosh down from the air and rescue people from calamities and disasters, but I kind of make their day with my charming presence and wit. I heal broken hearts with sinful brownies that I whip up in my cozy chic kitchen. And brighten up weary souls with stellar home cooked meals as I regale them with interesting stories, great conversations and soul-stirring music. Sometimes, when the stars are aligned, my secret life and real life merge like a dream and even as I revel in it, I know it’s short-lived, temporary as all things in life, and life itself. I flit between these universes and I think they feed off each other in a strange way. This is not just useless distraction, as I see it; to me, this is insightful, it is a means of self-improvement, and it’s also a kind of mental rehearsal. But most importantly, the person in that secret universe is who I aspire to be. Living in it gives me hope, strength and makes me feel like I’m closer to becoming that person, that this is all possible. And that, my friends, is enough. A life ripe with possibilities.

2.) I sometimes come up with really cool, interesting thoughts or a great joke, but I don’t say it right away if it’s a private conversation with just one person. I feel like that thought deserves to be shared with a larger audience who’ll appreciate it better. (Bring on the applause and the standing ovation.) So I hold it and wait endlessly for said opportunity to present itself. It’s not like I’m going to address a Ted Talk, but hey, you’ll never know, right? Why do I do this? Because I want people to know that it’s mine. The thought, the words, it’s all me. I wouldn’t want someone stealing it and taking credit for it. I’m vain, like that.

3.) I’m all for self improvement but I cannot stand people who speak like they’ve ingested every cheesy self-help book in the world. I have friends who speak in self-help jargon (read gibberish) of aligning their past self with their present and extension of identity beyond societal norms and for the life of me I don’t get it. Whatever happened to simple, honest talk? The more I hear friends spout such BS, the less I’m inclined to spend time with them, or most of all, trust them. Drop that mask, honey. I can see right through you.

4.) That brings me to honesty, the number one trait I look for in people these days. I’m not in college anymore, so I know that you can’t build everlasting bonds based solely on taste in music, books, movies, food, TV shows and fashion. I just want to meet real people with whom I can be more of myself. I don’t want to be impressed so stop trying to seem cooler than you are. I want to know who you really are. Your deepest fears, your imperfections, your flaws, your dreams, your genuine ideas, thoughts, feelings. I want to be able to share my world without judgement and scorn. And without the need to pretend or be restrained by political correctness. I want to be lost in conversation on things close to my heart and I want to rest assured that the other person has my back always. It’s the kind of community I want to build, where people care for each other and make time for each other, no matter what. And don’t dish out unsolicited parenting advice.

Notes to self

A set of reminders for a better everyday.

1.) Focus on being present in the moment . This has been a recurrent theme in my blog of late too. Learning the art of doing this from 14-month-old D.

2.) Set apart time for fitness. Work out at home, resume yoga, meditate for a while, go for a walk. Was regular with this but been lethargic ever since I got home to be with parents.

3.) Read good books. And read more often.

4.) Listen to music. Surprised that this is on the list because this is the one thing I used to do all the time. Now, though, my phone’s always on mute but I do play music in the background when D is eating or playing. But it’s mostly devotional or classical music, thanks to my family. Maybe pick different kinds of music too, so D is exposed to more variety.

5.) Mindless social media surfing needs to stop. My fingers and wrist hurt after a point!

6.) Start driving your car. Enough with the excuses and the baseless fears.

7.) Wear sarees more often, and learn to drape with more finesse. On a similar note, wear good clothes, give away stuff you don’t wear. Been doing this in regular intervals but wardrobe optimisation is a life-long process.

8.) Focus on self care. Seriously. It’s about time. Treat yourself to a good hair cut or a pedicure every few months at least.

9.) Practice patience. Easier said than done especially for someone like me who’s most impatient. But, but, I’m already doing a lot better than the last few weeks ever since I felt myself spiralling out of control. Point number 1 , aka, mindfulness, has helped.

10.) Get on top of your finances. Pending PF withdrawals, invoices, investment status, mutual fund returns, SIPs… get them all sorted one by one.

11.) Pick your projects. I’ve been turning down out a lot of work that’s come my way these days because I realise it’s not important now. Maybe it’s a good idea to say an outright No rather than reeling under the pressure once you’ve agreed to take on said work and then opting out. I want to spend more time with D. She’s my number one. Work scene seems more manageable now.

12.) Ask for help. You can’t and don’t have to do everything yourself. I can count on family and friends to help with babycare and more or just talk.

13.) Stay in touch with friends. And get out more to meet them. Also don’t shy away from forging new friendships.

14.) Do things you love. Sing, bake, cook, paint, photograph, write, work, laugh, play with abandon, with passion and zero expectations. And don’t think about how you’ll be perceived or if you’re good or bad. Treat everything as an opportunity to learn. Try it without holding back. Without seeking validation.

15.) stay grateful and positive. You are in a god place.

16.) Cut yourself some slack. It’s all right.

Entertain me

I’m perhaps one of 100 odd adults in the world that hasn’t watched a single episode of Game Of Thrones. I haven’t read or watched a Harry Potter or Lord Of The Rings book or movie. Trust me, I’m not smug about it. I honestly never felt the urge to pick up the book or watch the film. And I doubt if I ever will. It’s so far removed from the kind of entertainment I prefer and to an extent, I have serious commitment issues with these franchises that seem to go on and on with no end in sight.

It’s one of the reasons why I simply can’t watch a TV series , for instance, that runs to ten seasons. It’s anxiety-inducing and once I start, I fear that I’ll never be able to follow it through to its logical end. It is a big commitment and I’m so not ready to take it on. On the other hand, I like sitcoms because you can pick any random episode, have a good laugh and move on. Case in point: The Office. It’s not all-consuming. It makes no lofty demands. Each episode is a stand-alone situation with its own mini plot so there’s no compulsion to watch all seasons and no nervous anticipation or twists. It’s absolutely liberating. The only TV show I binge watched was How I Met Your Mother; I was going through a rough patch in my personal life and sought solace in this mindless show, which I now realise is full of misogyny and rife with objectification of women.

That said, I do enjoy a few shows that I recently watched on Netflix and Amazon Prime. The Marvellous Mrs Maisel is the best show I’ve ever watched in my 33 years of existence. That’s a tall claim and I stand by it. The first two seasons were released in instalments on Amazon and I devoured them; can’t wait for season 3. I like that there’s a waiting time, and that the seasons are not thrust on your face all at once. That would be too overwhelming. The other series I really enjoyed was The Kominsky Method on Netflix. Such impeccable writing. I watched this one in batches too, and I’m through with season 1. I’m hoping the show puts out more seasons. And oh, I remember now that I did binge watch another show – Master Of None by Aziz Ansari. I was plonked on the couch all afternoon watching all episodes of the season back to back, and I’d watch it again. I love that show.

I find it easier to watch movies on online streaming platforms rather than committing to a series. That way, I spend less time on my device – of course, I don’t ever get to watch a movie in its entirety. I catch an hour of it when D sleeps, and then continue watching it the next day around her nap time. So it typically takes me a couple of days or more to complete the movie.

Watching shows and movies on my phone is strictly a nap time activity. I only do this when D is sleeping and it’s only during her day nap. I either read a book or if I’m done with the book and I find something I want to watch online, I stream a show or movie. The rest of the time I’m either working or playing with D, taking care of her or pottering about at home. At night I turn off wifi around D’s bed time and once I get through the Herculean task of putting her to sleep, I retire to bed too.

I’m trying not to use gadgets and screens when I’m with D during the time she’s awake. My mom has already been handing over her phone to D around meal time, much to my chagrin. Besides, my parents spend more time staring, swiping their screens and watching videos on Whatsapp than I’ve ever done! I do not want D to be exposed to all of this and I’m making an effort to stay away from my phone and be present in the moment. In fact, being present in the moment is my goal, and in the coming days, I’m going to take baby steps towards attaining it.

Why I am on Instagram

I’ve been grazing Instagram a lot lately and I have to admit that I like this social media platform. I post almost every other day and most of my content has to do with motherhood, D, and now that I’m home, snippets of our garden, my grandparents, and some glorious food which I don’t have to cook. Most of what I share are happy frames and the ones that are not so happy are usually disguised as light-hearted posts.

However, a few days back I found myself in a really dark space and I did something I’ve never done before: I vented on Instagram. I am a private person and I generally don’t like the idea of sharing too much information online but this time I was so lost and helpless that I had no second thoughts about honestly expressing how I was feeling. I got plenty of very thoughtful and supportive messages from friends and people I barely know and it made me feel secure. M completely disapproves of me doing this though. He believes that certain things are best left unsaid when it comes to social media and his view is that it’d soon become an obsession and you’d feel the compulsion to share every trivial detail of your life on a public platform. I agree with him to an extent considering I’m just as guarded about posting stuff online. Yesterday, for instance, I took down a story because M insisted it was showing D in bad light. I thought it was a funny post – irreverent but funny, nonetheless- about D’s sleepless nights but M said I was being harsh on D and it’s not ok to complain about our kid like that. Had a major argument with him and eventually deleted the story.

By now, it’s well established that Instagram holds an unswerving power over our relationship. Especially now that we’re in different cities temporarily, the stress gets to us: to me, more than anyone else. And I’m already plotting sweet revenge when I get back to Hyderabad: determined to go out and explore the city alone while leaving D with M all day. Anyway, the question is: why am I on Instagram?

The answers are multi layered. For one, I like the Instagram community, now that I’m a mom. Earlier I’d just post travel pictures and get on with my life. But now, I’ve discovered Instagram moms! I follow a lot of them for their absolute honesty, humour and no nonsense approach to parenting, for keeping it real, for normalising a lot of things like breastfeeding, postpartum depression and the hellhole that motherhood is, at times. No judgments. I also follow moms for book reccos, fun activities, toddler food ideas, and so on. More than anything there’s a sense of camaraderie, a feeling that we’re all in this together, our experiences matter and the anger, rage, irritation we feel as mothers is normal.

Secondly, I don’t have many mom friends. And I live in a quiet part of town that’s very far from where a couple of my only friends in the city live. I do not have friends in the building I live in or in the vicinity. So it’s a rather lonely journey with me staying holed up with D all day long in the flat except for walks in the park in the morning and evening. Instagram on the other hand is home to plenty of moms, most of whom I want to connect with and be friends with in real life. So I live in that little bubble when I’m home, exhausted and a little lonely.

Do I want to document my journey and D’s on Instagram? Not really. I quite enjoy sharing snippets every now and then but I’m not comfortable with the idea of flooding my page with personal photos. I used to deride moms who can’t stop sharing pics of their little ones but I kind of get where they come from, and I enjoy reading their posts so it’s all cool. Instagram captions are the new blogs, it seems like. I’m still pretty old fashioned though and prefer writing long winding articles here to posting lengthy Instagram captions. This is my safe space.

Why do I spend so much time on Instagram? The response to this is plain boring: i cannot leave D alone even when she’s asleep ( here our bedroom is upstairs so I have to be with her) during the day or night. By now you know that my little peanut hates sleeping and i have to draw the curtains to make the room pitch dark. It’s too dark to read a book. So my phone is my friend! Instagram to the rescue. Or Netflix on mute with subtitles.

One of my favourite things about Instagram is that it has helped me discover some fabulous indie brands – be it fashion, beauty, kids clothes, toys, books, home decor, food, recipes , you get the drift. It’s like Pinterest, Amazon and Facebook rolled into one. I’ll share some of my favourite Instagram brands in another post. Plus I’ve been following a lot of accounts related to fitness, food, home decor and parenting that inspire me and give me hope.

I am prone to jealousy but by and large, this community doesn’t stir up too many negative emotions nor do I feel the pressure to keep up. I look at these Instagram accounts and pages as free tools to learn new things, seek inspiration and get better. I even got interesting work opportunities thanks to the platform, so while I have toyed with the idea of deactivating my account I don’t see the need for it. On good days, I share the joy I experience and on bad days, I seek validation and support. Doesn’t seem like a bad deal at all.