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Papa Push, Baby is Coming

Papa Push, Baby is Coming
Tisha – Papa Push, Baby is Coming


Do you remember what you wanted to be, when you were a kid? I don’t.

No, I don’t have a memory loss or something. It’s just that I wanted to be so many things that now I don’t even remember if there was something special that I wanted to be.

My kids are also going through the same phase where one day they want to be Police, other day teacher. Specially Tisha, her desire to be something changes by every hour.
So, yesterday she was the Doctor. She decided to be a doctor cause her Papa, being tired, told her that he has some back pain. Liar!!!!

He just didn’t wanted to be a Horse. Actually, every day when he comes from office, all three kids would jump over him and he has to oblige their love by being their ride. So he would be a horse with all three on his back, riding, till they find something else to amuse them. Coming back to point, he didn’t wanted to be a horse, so he decides to say, that he got some pain in back and leg.

Tisha, being the Papa’s angel, decided to take care of him. So she came running to him and said Papa, I am Doctor.

Papa: Oh my doll…. You are a Doctor? (very proudly, as if she has just passed her MBBS exam 😛 )
Tisha: Yes. I am Doctor. You hurt Papa?

Papa: Yes, baby. I am hurt. I got pain in my leg.

Tisha rushed to her play room to get a handkerchief, a crayon and water in her sippy cup.

Dipped her handkerchief in water, started cleaning Papa‘s hand (forgot that he complained about his leg).

Tisha: Don’t make it dirty. Clean it.

Then she used her crayon as if giving an injection.

Tisha: Don’t cry, OK. Mamma is here. Good babies don’t cry. Okay.

Papa: (crying) No, Doctor. I don’t want injection. I want to go. (crying louder now)

Tisha: (In a very bossy way, now), Don’t Cry. Don’t be a bad baby. Look Mamma is here.

Otu too came up jumping up and said “Bad Boy”, to Papa.

Papa: crying….. 😦

Tisha: Papa, Push…. Push… Baby is Coming.

Papa: (speechless….. looking at me).

Me: (Laughing so hard… I don’t remember when I stopped).

Tisha later gave a teddy bear, all wrapped up in her handkerchief, to Papa.

See, here is your baby.” 😀

In His Papa’s Shoes

In His Papa's Shoes

Bollywood movies have brainwashed us with their concept of Twins, wherein, one would be Evil and other a Saint; or if you will pinch one, other twin will cry. (I so want to try this) 😛

In His Papa's Shoes

I have yet to see this in real world, however; in my life with my two twin sons, what I do see is amazingly beautiful.

In His Papa's Shoes

Both are totally different personalities, in some way, poles apart. Surprisingly, one who have inherited my looks, behaves mostly like his father; and the one who has got his dashing looks from his Papa, is all me from inside.

In His Papa's Shoes

Today, I am writing about Renne; one who has heart and hairs of his father 🙂

In His Papa's Shoes

Every morning, it’s his daily ritual to wake up with his Papa, wait at the door of bathroom, till Papa comes out, all freshen up.

Their onwards Renne’s sole job is to make his Papa ready for office. First he will go to his Papa’s cupboard and pick out a shirt for him. Most of the times it will be the one which his Papa has thrown on the floor after wearing it a day before. 😮

Both father and son will spend nearly an hour in deciding what to wear. Renne will even try to buckle up the belt for his Papa. LOL… that looks so funny, when he tries that.

Papa is hardly ready, when Renne starts running towards his shoe cupboard. He will pick out the black formal shoes (always, I don’t know what’s his fascination with them), and then he will search for the socks. He has to search because his Papa is good in throwing things around. By the time Papa is seated to put on the shoes, Renne is busy finding matching socks. He somehow manages to do so everyday (even I am not able to search them sometimes), and will hand them over one by one to his Papa. One sock at a time, then the shoes.

Papa just have to do one thing on his own – comb his hair, because Renne can not reach there, otherwise he would have done that too. Next he will give lunchbox and tea to his Papa.

What’s left is, giving a goodbye kiss to his Papa, that too he do very diligently. Me, Jealous.:(

In His Papa's Shoes
Renne with Papa

From where did Renne learned all this? Who else, than his Papa himself?

I have seen my hubby, still taking care of his father’s appearance, whenever he is stepping out of home. His shoes are shining or not? Clothes are cleaned and ironed or not? Who washed his car? Which driver is going to drive today? What is his schedule? How much time he will spend in each of his meeting? Phew!!!

In His Papa's Shoes
Papa’s Fav Boy

Sometimes, I used to joke with my hubby, that he looks more like a personal assistant than a son, when it come to his father. He used to say to me (actually, still says), “I can be anything for my Papa. He is everything.

In His Papa's Shoes
Papa’s Baby

Now, my hubby has someone in his life, for whom, He Is Everything. 🙂

So, What Do You Read? Recipe Books?

So, What Do You Read? Recipe Books?

Firstly, I am really sorry for this drought of post from my side. Remember my Curious George problem, yeah, my cute sweet two year old Renne, Yes, he is the real culprit. I can never understand how those cute little small hands can have the power to destroy hard disk of a laptop. Well, Devil has never looked better.

Now when I have just explained why I didn’t write for a week, let me now come back to basic point of writing a post. So this happens at a friends place, where I was admiring their new kindle edition. I blurted out that I want one too. Next thing I heard them say was “Oh, So, What do you read? Recipe books? Cooking?”

Next two minutes I was blurting out all the books name that I have read and saying NO in every two seconds, no I do not read recipe books. I never read them. I read real books. LOL, Real books. What are real books?

On the way home, I was wondering why did I react in this way? Was it because I thought of it as a gender specific comment, like you are a woman, so all that you must be doing is cooking? Or was it because a male asked me this question, that’s why I reacted in shockingly surprise mode? Then I realized, he asked me genuinely and he wouldn’t have had any other hidden agenda than to ask me about my interest in books.

So, why did I panic? was it that bad to read about cooking? No. As long as you are reading something, It’s not that bad. As long as I am doing something interesting with my life, it’s never bad. Maybe, it hit me to be considered as normal, a Normal girl.

To be like a normal housewife who has only one agenda – cooking. I am not normal. I don’t want to be normal. some abnormality is required. Not like few extra legs or hands or maybe a tail or horns. That would be weird, really weird. But something extra, as in, a new skill, new confidence of going out, making new friends out of totally strange people, exploring the world, and cooking too. I want it all and something extra too.

God, don’t ever let me be normal. Normal is boring. Normal is like being a couch potato. I will rather be a carved out pumpkin. A scary devious looking pumpkin. Not Normal. Smile

How to Celebrate Woman’s Day?

Woman’s Day
Woman’s Day

Hurray! Today is The Woman’s Day. Big shout out to that. Yippee, I got a whole day dedicated to me. So, what should I do on my day?

Here are few things which are popping in my mind for the celebration 🙂

Woman’s Day
Woman’s Day

  1. Let’s start my day with a hot cup of Tea in bed. Hmm. Good, I would love that. But,who would make this tea? My husband, off course. Let me persuade him to make a cup of tea for me. But, on a second note, why would I want to start my special day with a bad (not bed) tea. He can not even boil water, just imagine what his tea would taste like? 😛 Nobody should go through that torture. Idea dropped.

  2. Next, I was thinking about not cooking anything. No Cooking. Well, I was actually thinking about asking my husband to cook something, but revisiting my first issue with tea, it is in best approach if I’ll drop this idea too. Wait, I can always order something. Yes, lets do that and relax. Wait, what my kids would eat for the whole day? Pizza? Burger? Oh God, no. But, if I have to cook something healthy for kids, why not cook for all? Idea dropped.

  3. Lets Sleep whole day. Yes, this is what I want. A whole day relaxing, spent sleeping or just lying in bed. So, I will cook food first and then I’ll go and rest for the whole day. Wow, I am feeling so good, just thinking about this. Wait, but I can not even go to bathroom alone. Every other second one or the other kid of mine keeps checking on me. They won’t even let me take a bath in peace, how will I sleep for the whole day? Idea dropped.

  4. What if, I’ll leave everyone at home and Go Out, enjoy a nice long drive in car, a short takeaway lunch, for sure a caramel sundae, go to library and hunt for a cracking fiction book, watch a movie in theater and then come back to home sweet home after spending my whole day like this. Wait, but what will happen to my hubby? Pity, how will he handle three kids all by himself? Oh, he is not equipped well. I can’t leave him alone with three kids all by himself. That would be a third degree torture on him. Idea dropped.

  5. What if rather than me going out, leaving all them behind, for a change, let them (hubby and kids) go out for some fun, and stay behind all alone, and do whatever I want. Or maybe do nothing. Well, sounds good. You must be thinking why not all go out and have fun. Well, that’s like everyday, than what would be different on this woman’s day. It won’t be special, if I won’t do anything special. Is it?

Woman’s Day
Woman’s Day

Oh god. Woman’s day is not supposed to be so full of planning and work. Leave this whole plan. Why not just enjoy this day like any other day of my life. Just be myself and enjoy, being me.


What does being Dead means?

What does being Dead means?
What does being Dead means?

No, I am not being all dark or over inspired by death. I am not built the pessimistic way. It’s just some events and a writer’s theme inspired me to think about it. You now must be knowing it well enough, that what I think, I write.

So, the thought process started with, what it would be like to be a dead person? What would happen to me one day (not soon hopefully), when I will die?

Strangely, have you ever noticed, when someone dies we actually never think about that person. Yes, it’s true. We rather talk about how was that person in the past. We say, oh he was such a nice man, he was very kind, so lovable. Why it happened to him, he was so full of life?

Or we will think about what would have been his future, only if he hasn’t met this fatal end. We will say, oh he was so bright, he was just about to open up a new business. Or he could have been married next year.

Mostly, we talk about the family, which was left devastated by the loss. We will think about them, their future, like what will happen to them now? How will they cope? How will they move on? What will happen to the kids, to the wife?

We are always worried about the living.

Has anyone thought about it the other way, like where is that person now? Is he seeing us, worrying about his family? Is he around us? Is he crying over his own death, or thinking about the crisis that his family is facing? How is he coping with all this loss? Every one else has lost one important person from their life, but him, he has lost everyone, in just a second. He has lost his mother, father, wife, kids, his aspirations, ambitions, future, everything.

What it would be like if someday I’ll be dead? What would happen to me? What if there is no hell or heaven? I will not go anywhere and will stay here with everyone, just invisible. Not like a ghost, or maybe a ghost just without any demonic powers. What if I’ll be just like an invisible person which can do nothing other than watching everyone going on with their daily routine in few days, weeks, or months.

What it would feel like if after a year of my death (hopefully no sooner), I will be sitting on the same couch with my hubby, but he won’t even notice my presence, or what if he is with someone else? What if he is happy and back to his lively self? What if he is same, like the way he was when I was alive? What if my parents who gave life to me, would not even think of me in their prayers? What would it feel like when my own kids will forget about me. They will adapt to their new life, move on. A life of which I am not a part of. Maybe they won’t even know what their mother was like. Would that hurt me? Hurt me more than the death? Yes, it will hurt me. More than the death itself.

What does being Dead means?
What does being Dead means?

But, what it would feel like if after a year of my death, I will be sitting on the same couch with my hubby, but he would be all miserable, depressive because of my death? What if he is no longer that laughing, cheering, and full of life person that I fall in love with? What would I feel? What if I’ll saw my parents losing faith in God, because their precious child is taken away? What if I will see everyone in my family secretly crying and hiding their tears, so that they will look strong in front of others? What if I will see my kids still waiting for their Mamma to come back. Come back from somewhere, but just come back. What if they are still waiting? Would that hurt me? No, it will not only hurt me. It will tear me down. It will break me the way no death can ever do. It would be the worse.

I would prefer to go to hell for eternity than see my family like this.

I now know for sure that I would be content even with my death, if my family will move on. If they would live a life, which is full of Life. I would want them to move on. Maybe, I would be able to move too.

I am not dead. Not yet.

Thus I pray to God, that no one loose their loved ones.

I just pray…