Happy 21st Baby girl

 

When she was born, I don’t remember how she looked like
Nor do I remember the first time I saw her,
or the first time I held her in my arms.
I do however remember the first word (or one of the first words) she said,
And how chubby she looked.

Living miles apart from each other,
She was a holiday treat for us older sisters.
She walked funny and talked funny
But then again, what was I to know, I was only 5

Fast forward three years, she came to live with us.
A crying baby who missed the grandmother who looked after her all those years.
Since then, she became my possession, a personal project.
And my little person.

Ammachi carried her everywhere and fed her things
I didn’t mind at all.
After school, we rushed home to see her playing in the front garden.
It was an unusual but soon becoming a pleasing sight for us older sisters.

Soon enough, she started going to school.
To our school.
A tiny body in a tiny  cream blouse and a brown coloured frilled frock
With side parted hair and rather short fringe,
She was a fragile little thing lost in Carmel Academy’s school uniform.

Being always subjected to change, and having no one she can trust,
She cried.
Every time she felt scared.

It was 4 pm, and I wasn’t done with my exam
I went up to my teacher to ask her permission to go out for 5 minutes
Luckily, she allowed

I got out of the exam hall to find her
And I did.
Waiting under the big mango tree, weeping.
She looked so weak and fragile,
The 8 year old me felt crumbled
And the sight never faded in my mind till this day.

Birthdays, anniversaries and other  occassions, we celebrated them all.
Hide and seeks, House, and other myriad games, we played them all.
I grew up, Anji grew up, and she grew up with us.
Life kept on bringing us and her changes, a lot and lot of changes.

One of these changes left us in Belfast one fine morning.
She started going to the nearby primary school, St Josephs.
Mummy was so worried about  her that she went to the school at lunch time to check up on her.
She’d already made her first friend, and apparently shared her lunch with her new friend?

Fast forward few years, She joined us in our high school
Again, side parted hair, with no fringe this time, thank goodness
In a grey jumper, tie, blazer, skirt and tights,
A nerdy little first year Indian kid I saw

Being a green blazer myself, a so called ‘cool’ 6th year,
I avoided her every time she walked past me with her friends
and enthusiastically waved at me.

Then one day, I hear her speak at the school assembly
About how Christmas used to be in India

And saw her holding up an umbrella for a short guy,
from my health and social care class.

Again, time kept moving forward.
And it took me to  Scotland for Uni
And Anji to Liverpool
We came back home with plus ones.

Life hasn’t always been mild on her
It brought changes after changes into her life
But she didn’t crumble
In fact,
The fragile girl with the awful side fringe kept toughening up
Without anyone else beside her.

And today, she stands as a strong, independent woman,
With a mind that does not waver easily, annoying for some, especially me.
A family that is well proud of her
A best friend who dots her
Brother in-laws who fight for her attention and approval.

All these years, all these events and all these changes,
Left her to become an amazing young adult
However,
She is still  my possession and my personal project.

And forever my little person.

Happy 21st baby

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Time and change

Before you know, it will be time to say good bye to 2016. How are the years flying, I still have no idea! Whilst every hour, every month and year is slipping away from your grip without your consent, I refused to believe that a part of me is leaving with time. Truth is though, whether I admit it or not, I’m getting old . So is everything and everyone else around me. We are changing, physically and emotionally, everyday.

My sisters have grown up and entering different phases in their lives;my parents are getting old even if i refuse to acknowledge any signs; my other-half is growing into a family man, my friends are getting married,having babies, getting separated  or moving away; and my grand parents, well i’m just grateful for every extra day that they get to see!

Change is inevitable! And it scares me, like everyone else!  Whilst I’m still stuck in the past, thinking of the ‘good-old’ times, time is moving forward and it is bringing in loads and loads of changes in everyone and everything. I’ve got two choices: a, be stuck in the past and be bitter about change; b, move forward with time.

I choose the latter, not with a lot of enthusiasm but with pain. I will move forward, taking my memories along with me and not losing track of the things that I were. I will also be reminded of the story of the eagle that transformed itself rather painfully when time plays it tricks on me.

Inspiration

Inspiration. An unusual guest to come by and knock on my door. I went to bed last night hoping and dreaming of a productive day today, and setting myself agendas. All plans were destroyed when I opened my eyes this morning at 09:53. I lied in bed for another half an hour scrolling through Instagram, Facebook, Snapchat over and over again. I hopelessly look up inspirational movies in the hope that some movie would get me going. Did not work. I type in ‘inspirational videos’ on youtube. Something comes up, I indulge in it for 3 minutes, some guy talking about setting himself a 5 million target and achieving it in 5 years. Inspirational. Well done him. But what I want now is to get out bed, something worth more than 5 million dollars. And thats when it hits me. The inspiration I’m seeking for all long is right here, lying in bed, looking for inspiration. Ironic.

I immediately get up, have some breakfast, get changed and get my cycle out. I go for 30 mins cycling in the near by scenic route.

On my way, I see an older couple on their walk, two young girls sitting on a bench who seem to be in a deep conversation, a family with 3 young children and a dog, a man on his walk. I look around, see the lake, the trees, the leaves that have fallen, and I think to myself: the inspiration I always look for does not lie within YouTube or any movies. That inspiration is me, in me. The inspiration that gets me out of bed, and gets me to see the real beauty of the nature and of human beings.

Seeing that inspiration, believing in that inspiration and choosing that inspiration is difficult. Extremely difficult. But I hope when I look up inspirational videos or movies next time, I think of this experience and choose to see and believe the inspiration that I have within me.

The Power of Procrastination

I was set out on a mission to be productive, So I step away from my work and procrastinate by deleting emails our of my inbox, naturally. I come across some old emails from my sisters and husband and think to myself, there is a reason why I enjoy life so much. I have the best of the best in my life.

______________________________________________________________

Hope you are doing well in work.. tough times, hard times , funny times … jus wanted to say i love you …. hope u r getting excited to move in to the new house … the girl  who lived on her own and proved herself that she can be what ever she wants to be…. the one who can live with out any man cause women are strong , the one who found her prince and holding on to him, the one who is the oldest in the family  but still the baby of the parents, the one who held her sisters closer even after heavy rains 🙂 

 

the person who u r gonna be, the dreams u r gonna have, places to see , people to see 🙂 

 above all i love you .. may the music inspire you 🙂  

  was listening to this though u might like it 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=55885Qnt7Ps

 love Anji 🙂

________________________________________________________________
 Date: Wed, 29 Oct 2014 21:30:04 +0000
Subject: RE:
From: AB Junior
To:AB senior 
Thanks ach. How  are you?
Your penpal appu Smiling face with smiling eyes
From: “AB senior”
Sent: 29 October 2014 21:23
To: “AB Junior
Subject: RE:

np appi, i’m ok
i’m on a mission to find 100 things i like about myself

 your pen pal
achu
 Date: Wed, 29 Oct 2014 21:30:04 +0000
Subject: RE:
From: AB Junior
To:AB senior 
I like that you like to do these things
I like that you’re really weird
 I like that I am your sister
I like that you are the oldest but you act like the youngest at times
 I like that you’re so old school, like a granny
I like that you’re such a social media conscious person- deleting all your personal photos of instagram,  who does that?
I like your style of writing in your blogs
Finally, I like that I love you
 Eughh I think I am goin to be sick from the cheesiness overload.
From: “AB Senior”
Sent: 29 October 2014 21:51
To: AB junior 
Subject: RE:
awwwwww you love me you love me 
I need more though
 From: “AB Junior”
Sent: 29 October 2014 21:23
To: “AB senior”
Subject: RE:
 Pfft you’re so needy! Nooooooo 
_________________________________________________________________


Hey baby,

I am in seemati now. I’m watching a father and mother buying their son clothes for his wedding. Somehow, I am smiling, because the mother reminds me of my own. She is strong, very very vocal, and just scolded her husband for the vastness and roundness of his belly.

But her love for the family, her attitude when she is sitting on the sofa pulling her rank and her double checking if she forgot something when they were leaving made me realise that marriages are born in heaven, but they live on earth. I guess that everything starts with puppy love after which we discover sincerity, honesty, beauty and faith in each other.

I know my flaws, and I know yours. I know that you accept yourself for who you are. I do too. For who you are, for what you do and for what you make me become. My idea of a marriage is us picking strawberries, fighting and making up, being different from each other and a million other things but together.

I will always love you

Life’s little moments.

Talking to a friend made me realise that I’ve been soooooooo busy recently. So busy that I forget to write down the little moments of life, remember these moments later on, celebrate and cherish them. You get so copped up with life that you don’t have enough hours in the day to read a book that you like, do a self-less good deed once a month or to tell your loved one why you appreciate them being in your life. Laziness, refusal to be out of your comfort zone or just plain inability to appreciate or celebrate life’s little moments all could be the reason.

But I refuse to be like this.

Ima start enjoying life’s little moments again and celebrate them cause, quite frankly, life is amazing!

Here’s to life and to the friend who reminded me of this!

 

She believes and so she does!

image

Even in this day and age, it is difficult for a woman to do whatever she wants in life. Forget about her own fears, insecurities and self-doubts, but she also has to answer to others doubts in a woman’s ability to succeed. Sometimes its subtle and hidden, sometimes its very explicit.
I see it all, I hear it all, I might not say anything out loud but I do say ‘F.U’ inside my head and continue to do what I do best- being a Strong Independent Woman.

The joys of a Girl with uterus

My better-half caught me whilst I was being sneaky about something on my phone. ‘What is it?’ he asked. ‘Nothing’, I promptly answered. He grew more and more suspicious which left me with no choice but to be honest about what I was doing. ‘Its a menstrual cycle tracker, and  I  er…was er…updating my er…mood today’. ‘What was your mood today?’ he curiously asked. ‘I er.. put it down as er.. sensitive’, I shyly mumbled. ‘Ahhh so I have to be careful then eh?’ he cheekily asked.

He also thought it was the best time to share his observation about how my motivational level fluctuates everyday; how I’m ready to take on the world one day and the next I’m ready to take on nothing but my bed. His motivational level however stays the same everyday (Annoying, I know!). I reluctantly agreed to what he said and added  that sometimes my body is very weak and I have low energy, especially near to my ‘special days’. I felt very sheepish when I used the good old ‘the-joy-of-being-a-girl-with-uterus’ phrase.

I analysed the problem here as I went to bed

  1. To experience the body changes and the mood swings that you have absolutely no control over
  2. Being ashamed of actually admitting it to people
  3. Being disappointed in not being productive and blaming yourself as being lazy.

..and I fell asleep.

This morning though, My alarm who does NOT have ANY sort of mood swings or low energy problems woke up at sharp at 8 and woke me up at sharp at. I cursed everything under the sky for waking up, my body feels like a wrecked train and my mind feels like its in a vegetative state. My morning thoughts included: ‘I shouldn’t have no dreams, I don’t need to achieve anything, I’m not ambitious, strong or passionate as I think I am. I should just binge-watch a corny tv series and finish the 4 packets of watsits and 3 bars of toblerone that’s in the kitchen. But its a looooong way from here. And here it begins,  ‘The joy of being a girl with uterus’

Approximately at about 8.40, I thought to myself ‘I aint no girl with a uterus,  I a woman’. A woman with uterus. A woman who can woman up even though her uterus is being a ‘beesh’ to her. So I downloaded a productivity app, added simple tasks such as drinking water, having tea, tidying up room, praying etc on it; every ticks I had acquired beside the simple tasks motivated me to pursue and achieve bigger tasks.

Long story short, I finished all those 4 packets of watsits and the toblerone that was in the kitchen, but I replaced them with an amazing chicken roast and a rather delicious banana loaf I made.

AND I got myself a big tick for writing this blog post.

Not bad at all for a girl sorry woman with uterus.

 

Identity theft!

So for years, I’ve been quite careful about not losing my identity. However, yesterday, for the first time, I lost it. I lost my identity! I lost my identity  to marriage!!

Ok, that’s a little bit dramatic!

So the point is, I  changed my surname to Mathew. A lot of reasons why I did that, some right, some wrong. It sure is difficult for some to engage in that process of changing their surnames after getting married. Whilst it is as painful as it is to let go of an identity that I played so well for the past 25 years, and accept a new identity that I will be playing (well-ish?)for the rest of my life; I sure am glad that it is only my name that is changing because of marriage and not my personality. I will continue to view the world the way I see it, hear the things I want to hear and continue being an A* hole as my husband says, regardless of my marital status.