in our days in india, we were only dimly aware of Lord Murugan and his happy birthday.
thai pusam (thai is the tamil month and pusam is the birthstar of Murugan) is a whale of a festival in KL. a national holiday.
the batu caves
random pusam trivia: this is the birthstar of three generations of men on the MMMiM’s side (his dad, him and baby param)
p.s. if you are tamil, tell me your birthstar…
i am not obssessed with personal appearance or hair.
and i don’t get it…
school teacher tells firstborn: dont put so much oil in your hair…
language teacher tells firstborn: tell mummy not to put so much oil in your hair
school-van driver (it’s a she) tells me: why do you put so much hair-oil on your firstborn’s head? we dont do such things in KL here…
agreed. what if for argument’s sake i do down half a bottle’s worth on his head every morning. so long as the kid can still see where he is going, it’s ok.
hair/appearance/ is personal right? why does a 4.y.o have to look gorgeous and dishy.
according to me: he has to have a bath. nails clipped short. and hair combed.
more than enough.
“…the laptop has turned into a radio!” firstborn rushes to the kitchen to fetch me.
the screen-saver was a blank black screen, and the music was playing.
have you heard m. buble? liked the whole song for the way he sang one line — “just havent met you yet”
and this tamil song is a superhit with the mmmim and moi. not spanking new or anything. sorry. we KLites take a little time to click on refresh
that i enlisted firstborn’s help to wash the dishes…
(abr’s , esp. sands, will testify that “dishes” is the chore i’d like to reduce to ashes if i could borrow shiva’s third eye for three seconds…)
ashamed to admit I never touched a scotch brite till i was 27. i dont want firstborn to inherit my genes and start life with the assumption that housework is rocket science.
in fact i am amazed that he said: “amma musnt you rinse the dishes with water before you start cleaning it with soap?” heck. i was almost 30 before i figured that bit out.
very proud to present you with firstborn’s hardwork…
also for sands who wanted a pic…
(see i told you there was no resemblance to SRK)
and thank you to shruti:
firstborn is busy colouring the book you sent him…
and thanks for the lovely card you sent us…
firstborn went to school. he didnt see the tricolour being hoisted. he didnt hear the national anthem all day. and neither did i.
after he came back. i was ready for him….
1. we got “tiranga” crafty
2. taught firstborn the first stanza of “janda ooncha”
3. told him about the colonial days and how great-grandma went to school at a time when the country was ruled by people who were not Indian…
i cut squares from some pages of last year's school work
i may conveniently forget to celebrate a festival ,
but. i want firstborn to remember India’s Big Days.
Random Malaysian chappie at our weekend getaway: Is that your husband loading the luggage into the car.
Malaysian chappie: He looks like Shah Rukh Khan.
(er. readers from mumbai? never mention this to poor SRK, ok? )
we showed our firstborn a hill-station. strawberries in season. a tea-plantation that gave us seven heart-attacks while we drove uphill. we wore woollens just three hours away from KL. saw tiny mandarin oranges and watercress farms, stuck to speed limits…
ME: “What did you like best about Cameron Highlands firstborn?”
“That i didnt have to eat mom’s rasam rice for two full days.”