Gazillion apologies, Eric Carle and Elieen Christelow. I understand that you both are not related by any means, but my daughter attempts to do so. In her own imaginative world.

These last few months, D has been insisting on starting the book with Who wrote this book and ending with Where Aunty/Uncle lives , Why he/she wrote this book?. After having followed the new rule set diligently for some time now, this curious little girl now remembers the authors of some of her favorite books. Eric Carle, Elieen Christelow and Nancy Carlson top her chart due to repeated readings of these books.
The Very Hungry Caterpillar by Eric Carle
The Mixed Up Chameleon by Eric Carle
Five Little Monkeys series by Elieen Christelow
I Like Me series by Nancy Carlson

It has been a while we returned these books to the library. Nevertheless, once in a while we refresh our memories pretending the book is in front of us. I read the book title and she tells the author. Sometimes she decides to say the title and asks me who wrote it. Sometime after returning these books, we stopped doing that. Few days back, we started again.

She forgot the author of Five Little Monkeys, rather couldn’t remember the full name. She was mumbling a combination of Elieen Christelow and Nancy Carlson. And wouldn’t let me help her either. Very precise that I should not tell!! Poor thing, after few minutes she got irritated that she couldn’t remember. So I gave her a hint and she got it.

But, this one can’t let go of a situation without spinning it to her advantage. So there she goes – I am going to mix Elieen Christelow and Eric Carle in a bowl like dar dar. Of course with that wicked grin of hers. Only this time, I gave her company.

* * * * * *
On a whole different context, put my car up for sale today. Within an hour, this Chinese dude walks in, takes a look at the car, test drives it and hands over the cash advance. We were so not expecting the transaction to happen this quick and were not prepared with what-to-do-next, in terms of paper work, signing a contract for as-is sale and so on.
But, this episode has left me with an extreme overwhelming feel. I never realized I had any sort of attachment with my car, until today. I had not felt any emotion when we sold our house couple of years back. I signed the papers without a second thought. But car? Why? Strange!

The phone rings. The lady of the house who has now mastered the art of changing hats at the blink of an eye is not sure which role she’s gonna assume next. That of a friend, family member, architect, consultant or a pre-sales techno. While she takes a quick look at the caller ID, the 13 month old toddler who has been keeping herself busy by practicing climbing up and down the couch, squeals in excitement, on yet another successful climb. A quick decision is taken to let the call go to voicemail. Two minutes later, the voicemail is played. Production system broken! Need help now!

There is this stay-at-home, naughty and audible toddler in the house, so the lady only takes scheduled calls from clients. There is an unwritten rule in the house for the husband to stay home and take care of toddler, whenever the said situation arises. But, every now and then, there are rare events when an unexpected phone call turns adventurous. Must add that the contracts clearly state – no phone support. But..

This day.. the man was out and the lady knew he wouldn’t be back for another 4 hours. No way on earth the toddler who just woke would go back to sleep in the next few hours. The lady straps the toddler in the high chair, plays Barney with just enough sound to reach the toddler’s ears. She then moves swiftly to the other corner of the room, sits cramped in between the dining table and the futon, with the wi-fi enabled laptop in hand, ready to take on the issue.

Returns the customer’s call and without any further delay, they kick start the debugging. Close to where the lady is sitting, lies this talking car wash station toy(given by a friend). This one is very loud and has no volume adjustment control. The best part, it has a sensor-based trigger. Supposedly when the toy car passes through the car wash station, it says something like – Cars coming through, watch out. Followed by an Elmo’s giggle. And many other such things.

This time however, there was no car to be found anywhere in the vicinity, nor was there any hand movement below the sensor. Yet, it suddenly started talking. Just in time. Lady fumbles to the customer, reaches the toy, frantically searching for the on/off button. While there was a mute button right in the communication instrument, lady decides to mute her thinking capacity instead and fiddles with the toy, triggering the sensor left, right and center. Until the sensible person from the other side asks if everything’s okay. And that he will call back in few minutes.

My 12 year old niece sends me a message on skype asking me to sign up on Toondoo. When I ask her what this site is about, she says it’s a social networking site to create, share and discus comic strips. Create? Share? Discuss? At 12 years of age? I was tempted to lecture her on how dangerous the internet is.. and that she should not be signing up anywhere and everywhere.. Even before I could collect my thoughts, she points to few other sites. One that I remember is Doof, which apparently she and my nephew, who is of the same age, use to play chess from 2 different laptops and 2 different physical locations. They call it a social gaming site.

I took one look at Toondoo and must say I was mighty impressed. Though I am still not sure it is appropriate for a 12 year old, as they don’t seem to have any screening on the content published. The cartoon creator interface is very intuitive. I let D sit on the Create Your Own Cartoon interface for few minutes, was taken aback to see how the kids mind works. Within few minutes, she was dragging the images into the work area. Which created the background. She then dragged 2 humans and a monster-lookalike-something into the work area. She even had a story to tell. I resentfully refuse to go into further details..

Not too long ago, I had written a post on my daughters fascination with laptop. I must have become more tolerant and more accepting since then. I have come to accept that internet is going to be an intrinsic part of our life. Especially with families like ours, where we cannot draw a clear line on working hours. And work involves internet. More realistic approach is to let them use the internet for a certain fixed time and supervise every move of theirs. So, now she gets limited laptop time on weekends and some weekdays. I show her on the clock the time upto which she can work and I sit besides her. One day, while she was painting, Firefox crashed. She immediately clicks on the icon from the dock. The default yahoo.com opens up and the owl eyed spots an advertisement on beaches and giggles – Aunty is nangu! Another time when the browser crashed, she throws her hand up in the air and says – Laptop says times up!

D is way too young to use the internet by herself and not going to get access to any social networking site before she can spell and write Massachusetts. But, here are few tips that might be of help to parents of older kids.

- Social networking sites are much more dangerous. They let you connect with unknown others in one click, there is no accountability to what you write. Or so one might think, unless you get into trouble.

- Avoid using real names and any other details that are are give aways of residing location. Atleast until kids are of a certain age and are emotionally capable of handling trolling. Here is a good read on trolling and flaming, the link we sent to my 19 year old niece who is new and naive to the blogging world.

- Lead them to age appropriate sites and supervise every single site they visit. The biggest problem with these sites are advertisements and cross sells. That’s their ticket to monetization, no qualms on that front. But the advertisement are not always age appropriate.

- Question them on why a certain site interests them.

- Do a quick check on the site if it safe and falls under your standard of acceptable safety.

- Look at the About page. See if it is supported/backed by an established company. Established companies hire “community managers” whose sole role is to keep data clean and appropriate.

- Do a quick google search to see what everyone else says about the site. Make sure there is no negative reporting.

! E-Ticket in hand ! ! Household sale bohni this Saturday !

No matter from which angle I look at it, zoom in, zoom out, flip or rotate. It speaks out loud, it is very much a non-refundable, non-transferable ONE-WAY ticket! Don’t get me wrong, I am super excited and looking forward to the move, to the new beginning. But still, there is a hidden angst to let go. It’s that feeling of realness, the sense of no turning back. It’s happening! It’s really happening!!

It’s such an experience to watch my daughter go through this process and to see her interpretation of the move at various stages. I don’t think the scope of moving-to-India has registered to her yet. She was a year old when we made our last trip. She hardly remembers anything from then. Few east coast trips after that have led her to the understanding that we will be back home in few days.

We started the selling process this past weekend. We moved some furnitures downstairs, close to the entrance, just to save the lookers from coming deep inside the house. My daughter asks the question, just as anticipated. Why mumma? Mumma is a good story teller, she can churn answers even in sleep. But to give an answer that is convincing in the first go, and one that does not provoke further questions is a whole different ball game. This time she was prepared and had rehearsed the answer. D, we can only take some suitcases in the plane. Plane does not have space for big items and furnitures. Anything that won’t fit into the suitcases has to be given away. She seemed a bit alarmed and says – Only table, chair, bed, shelf? Right mumma? Not my toys and my bo-oo-oks? You are right beta, I tell her.

So, this American dude walks in to take a look at the dresser I advertised on craigslist. In spite of detailing every possible dimension with pictures in the advertisement, he walks in, takes a look and says its too narrow for his room. What can I say, in that one hour that the empty dresser had been lying downstairs, D had managed to sneak in some of her toys. Maybe the dude got ticked off. My little one who had been observing all along pops with yet another question Why Uncle did not take? He did not like it beta. Another uncle will be here in few minutes, he might take it. Okay, I tell her.
This monster screams at the top of her voice at this man, who is now few feet away – Why are you not taking it? We are going to India. This will not fit into our plane!! Then I cannot even go to India! It is amazing to see how these little minds work and how they connect the dots. Furniture not selling + No space in plane == Cannot go to India.

Shortly another person walked in, loved the dresser, paid the list price and took it. To which D exclaims with extreme happiness and relief This uncle was good uncle. That man was bad boy!

And thus happened the bohni on Saturday.

That very same afternoon, a family with 2 kids came by to pick up the guest twin captain’s bed. While the lady’s husband was busy dismantling the bed to be loaded into his van, the resident chatterbox[Yes, I have lost the title to my daughter] strikes a conversation with the lady. First she asks her name. Then she tells her – You are taking my bed because the boys don’t have any bed to sleep on?
My face was worth a photo shoot, I tell ya.

This past week or so, no soul on the street has been spared from the information that we are moving to India. We had a chat, me and the daughter.
Me: D, you should not tell everybody that we going to India.
D: Why mumma?
Me: Because, some things we can only tell to friends. Mummy and papa’s friends are those uncles and Aunties that come inside our house, talk to papa and mummy for a long time. Other people you see on the street, say hi and smile, are strangers. Should not tell anything to them beyond Hi. Especially when mummy and papa are not around.
D: Oh! You are right mumma! I can tell the Aunty who took my bed. She was inside the house and talking to mummy and paapa for a very long time, right mumma!!

Lesson learned! Things you don’t want the whole world to know, keep it low-key in the house. Contain the excitement to self and spare the little bees from serious calculation of what to say and what not to say!

The mother, in a very casual conversation, ends up telling the daughter there are mosquitoes in India. Daughter is excited about going to India, to meet her cousins and all. But not very excited to meet the bugs one on one. She is constantly trying to find a suitable solution..

Daughter: Mumma, but I don’t like mosquitoes.
Mother: hmph.. Neither do I. They are usually outside the house. They won’t come in if you keep the house closed. And the surroundings clean. B bhaiyya, K didi are there na beta. They are not bothered. You’ll have fun there.

Few hours later..
Daughter: Mumma, I have an idea. How about we take a super small, teeny weeny airplane. We will go inside the house in the closed airplane, and lock the house. When we want to come out, we can get inside the airplane, go where ever we want and then come inside the house in the same airplane. Yes, mumma? Then the mosquitoes cannot ever ever ever ever bite me.

**********

Papa goes hiking Sunday early mornings with a bunch of uncles. Daughter has been wanting to hike as well. Papa keeps telling her she is too young to go for that long. One such Sunday morning, she wakes up, finds papa has gone hiking and..
Daughter: Mumma, papa is walking on the mountain. Are you sure he is ok and will not fall down?
Mother: Yes betu. Am sure he won’t.
Daughter: Yesterday, papa was telling me, when I will be big girl, then he can come with me. Then I can help him climb and make sure he won’t fall!!
I told you, she’s a true Californian!!

**********

Papa and daughter are happily munching away the said almonds to glory. Mother has no clue they are out of almonds and the last handful has been split into two, after being subjected to negotiation. Both papa and daughter are eating and reading and lost in their thoughtland. The mother passes by and eats few from the daughters bowl. Daughter snaps out of her thoughtland and bawls It’s not even fair! Why you don’t eat from his bowl. Why you always eat from my’s[mine]! That’s why I am not healthy.
Mother: Who told you are not healthy? My daughter is such a good kid, eats well, sleeps well..
Daughter: Nooo.. That’s why Dr. J put shots for me. Second Aunty poked me. So much harder, you don’t even know.
( Referring to the typhoid shot she got a few days back.. )

**********

Mother is trying to finish up Sunday chores while sipping chai. Daughter is happily making shapes with play dough.
Mother: Hey, its almost 5. Shall I get you some milk?
Daughter: Sure, mumma! I would love to drink!!

**********

Daughter eats capsicums because her mother has told her they are rich in anti oxidants. They are good for health. Daughter’s only worry right now is the baby sister growing taller than her. So bring on everything that has anything to do with good-for-health.
In the same context..
Daughter gets hold of a packet full of banana chips. Both the girls are happily slurping on them. The mother caught a glimpse, but she let go, telling to herself – It’s okay once in a while. She couldn’t resist when the pack was half empty within matter of minutes..
Mother: D, you had enough. Tummy will hurt if you eat more.
Daughter: Look Mumma! These are banana’s. Fruit.. They are very healthy. My teacher said tummy don’t hurt when you eat fruits.
Mother: D, these are fried in oil, okay. It’s okay to eat a little bit once in a while. You have eaten enough. Put that pack back in the shelf.
Daughter: There is no oil, mumma! Look at it. These are bananas. You don’t understand!!! Come baby, lets eat.. banana fruit..

**********

It feels like one fine day she woke up with these one liner additions to her dictionary..
Sure! I would love to.
It’s not even fair.
I can help you.
I have an idea.
Let’s do that, what are you waiting for.
How about that.
You don’t understand.
This is what I mean.
My teacher said.

!! We are moving to Bangalore, India !!

The reason for all this drama in the previous posts? Let’s just say I am a drama queen. Or that I wanted to wait till the tickets were at the least blocked if not booked.

Why Why Why?
That’s the million dollar question. In my close to 10 year tenure here, I have come across many immigrants who wish to go back at some point or the other for one reason or the other. Sampling the thoughts, the common denomination factor invariably seems to be the extended family and aging parents.

I love this country with all my heart. This is my home. This is the life I know. I came here in my twenties with 2 suitcases, 500$ in hand, a visa stamped passport, a job and loads of determination. Though the initial intent was to work here for just a year, go back to unite with my then fiancé, who had no intentions of migrating out of Bombay. Life chose a different path for us. Circumstances forced him to make a business trip to California, Cupertino to be precise. A die hard fan of Steve Jobs gets lodged behind the Apple company, and rest is history.

This country is amazing. Living in the silicon valley, the technology hub, is like heaven for techno nerds and geeks[Read the LH]. The opportunities it gives, the thought process it provokes, the space it provides for creative thinking. Constantly surrounded by highly innovative, crazily creative and passionate people. Where else in the world would one find the headquarters of Google, Apple, Ebay, Yahoo, Oracle, IBM, top tier VC firms, all in the proximity of few miles. Oh, I can go on and on.

If not for being a resident of this place, the confidence it induces, we wouldn’t be running a business today. A business that has provided for 15 odd people in Bangalore for the past 3 years. With a salary I could not even have imagined when I worked in India in late 90’s.

Yet, there is an emptiness. Even at the end of a good productive day, when kids are asleep, the mind if free from racing thoughts, there is a longing to know what the aging parents are doing back home. Technology does bridge the distance, they are one phone/skype call away. Yet, there is a constant angst. What if there is an emergency? What if?

It’s important to put feelings in perspective. Living within India may not mean being physically present 24 x 7 or being available when the moment of need arises. Who has seen what future holds. In spite of this planning, who knows how things will pan out? But, self employment and the nature of our business is giving us this flexibility to take this decision without much impact, in terms of work.

The move is not permanent. We like to plan our life in 5 year chunks. We live in a global world, there is no denying there. A 5 year plan just seems more practical and realistic approach in this global economy. Our business in US will continue as usual. I am fully aware of my duties towards the country. To abide by the law, to be loyal, to pay taxes and to vote. At the same time, I cannot disown my birth country, neither can I disown my family that decided to stay back.

I will miss..
My brother, sister and family.

Friends, friends, friends. A small group of friends in the Bay area who are like extended family. The friends who took turns to provide food for 3 days when I was to be at bed rest. Those friends who took time off from work to stop by and lend a listening ear just because I was feeling low. Those friends whom I could call anytime of the day or night, don’t have to think twice before asking for any sort of help. Those friends whom I could chit chat while cooking and laugh over silly things. Thank you for being there, you will be missed.

I will most definitely miss the people, the general junta. Americans, Chinese, Mexicans.. There is some kind of positiveness in people here. Any passer by would almost always smile, say a hello, sometimes even take a minute to say how lovely the dress I am wearing is. Or that my daughter has a cute smile.

I will miss the non-interfering life style. I do what I wish, no one questions why.

I will miss Whole Foods/Trader Joe’s. Don’t ask me why, but yes, that comes this high in my will-miss list.

I will miss drinking milk directly from the carton, drinking water from the tap. I will miss the dry hot plates that comes out of the dishwasher.

Looking forward to..
I am so looking forward to this move.

To spend time with parents and parent-in-laws. It’s my turn to take care of them, love them and feel loved. To be with extended family, something my daughters have not experienced. This will bring its own set of issues, I am very well aware of that. Yet that experience I want to go through. I want my daughters to know what it is like to live with cousins, aunts and uncles. To spend a winter or summer vacation with them instead of home or a summer camp.

I am so looking forward to the energy India has. We did a dry run of 5 months in Bangalore about 2 years back. I will probably do a separate post on this, but the city in spite of its infrastructure issues has its charm. It’s vibrant, full of energy and enthusiasm.

I am so looking forward to having a cook and a cleaner. My house can once again be sparkling clean every minute of the day. I can be greeted with a glass of water the minute I enter the house. I can wake up to the gingery smell of chai served right to my bed. When the cook entertains D alongside preparing breakfast, I can get a little extra dose of sleep.

I am so looking forward to the sun dried crisp clothes. Oh, that smell! To exchange smiles with neighbors.

I am so looking forward to the change. The chaotic yet organized life style that amazingly works.

So, here we come Bangalore. Welcome us, will ya!

Disclaimer: This post is solely based on my personal experience and my personal opinion.