batu caves

the mmmim misses temples and the social network it gave him in chennai. (he may or may not have heard of facebook; he may or may not have heard it is 2011).

and being the mmmim he overcompensates.

he’s adopted a temple here… and goes to help out on weekends. cleaning. chatting with a maama. giving tulsi. serving prasadam. spending four hours on a saturday morning that begins at 5.45 a.m.

being type A. type hyper A.

very rarely i tag along.

(note to ma: you can click on the images to see bigger photos)

the tallest Murugan in the world is getting renovated or something

cute kids in traditional wear #1. isnt she a doll?

that would be firstborn’s hand in the yaali’s mouth, in the background.

firstborn figures out the trickimage: whose head can you see? the bison’s or the elephant’s?

status update: there’s an annoying woman behind me taking a photo

tree with bundles of wishes

firstborn and baby param take on the 272 steps to batu caves. they came back after 7, since they saw i wasnt coming along

not yet kvijesh photography. but pretty good i thought.

pester power vetoed. and i live to tell the tale we DONT have these balls at our home

the nine grahas. love the flowers and the fluff in the garlands

the Sun rises

apparently malaysians dont like crows and shoot them. v. sad. here’s the first crow i saw in Malaysia

a scared firstborn hesitantly chases pigeons. a brave param chases firstborn

i think she’s famous. everyone was taking her pic

definitely kvijesh photography level.

a cute kid and his candyfloss are soon separated

firstborn angst. or when are we getting out of here

and weddings come in twos.

at this reception I had TOTAL fun.
the mmmim and i were colour co-ordinated (his kurta buttons and my salwar kameez were the same colour)

there was music and dance (the mmmim was in kollywood heaven)

the ladies there were poured into blouses so attractively stitched that I was determined to get the number of all these stylo tailors and ask em why they weren’t hanging around in chennai in 2004 when i was getting married?

this grand photo greets us at the entrance

come to expect such beauties … flowers are beautiful here

the red carpet was rolled out.

love the petals so carefully carelessly strewn

there were speeches and people saying lovely things about the couple.

the feast that awaited the couple and their family…

the waiters marching in with the food. i held my breath wondering about dessert

prettiness quotient raiser

i told the mmmim it was a bow-tie thing. and he wore a kurta

the stage is set

the thrones are ready

and here’s the bride…

and these last few photos were meant as a primer for all those tailors in chennai to whom my ma takes my blouse materials. look and learn please.

it’s taken us three years to be invited

to a wedding…here in KL

a traditional Malay reception. the groom and bride are in white and they get fanned the bridesmaid and bestman.

flower girls

the bride looks gorgeous. they sat as still as statues.

i keep trying to get a kvijesh shot. fail

there are speeches, but in Malay. so one didnt understand what was being said.

love the colour in the costume

the parents of the bride. v. colour coordinated. have told the mmmim that we are going to be colour coordinated for weddings henceforth

our return gift. it’s really an egg. and baby param broke it in the car. at least i have the pic

no dearth of cute kids

spl vegetarian table for us. can you see the idlies? may be because i polished em off

the lunch table for the newly weds

a horizontal pic so you can turn your head the normal way, now.

hey this happens in india too

no dearth of cute kids part 2.

email from the bff

i asked the bff why she isnt regular on facebook. and this was her stance:

I hate facebook -its society’s boa constrictor!

But do impart the gossip…if any

in other news…

on hearing that aishwarya rai has delivered:

the mmmim: ” yes, but tell me why this end of the curtain is dangling”

bollywood leaves the man cold.

**

baby param crawled under the bathroom door.

apparently he locked himself inside the bathroom at school. panicking, he tried to kick it open. when he couldnt… he flattened himself on the floor and creeped out.

i am not even thinking of the eyuuuuuuu-ness that this event has generated.

the things that child does.

***
firstborn won a spot prize for answering a fun question in school: “why do we have two ears and one mouth?”

“to listen more and talk less” he said.

we were stunned to know that this child knows this in theory.

because practical FAIL.

**
and wordpress tells me I am 500 posts old. gosh. i CAN go on sometimes huh?… classic case of the mimpot calling the firstbornkettle black. heh heh.

spoiler alert

watched the second half of Padosan waiting for its most famous song…

apparently it comes in the beginning.
#smote forehead moment

three plus

“and may god less you…
and may god less you…”

baby param singing the happy birthday song. and what he thinks is the second stanza…

**

so. ma. what did you do at home today ?”

Baby param pops me the question as he jumps out of the van. er. wasnt that my half of the dialogue?
***

“today the teacher stamped on some books and slapped me…”

this is 100 per cent fiction. maybe even 200 per cent.
***

“hello. vanakkam. oru kaamedy sollunga”

“:
baby param answering the phone.

i have mentioned earlier that i will never forgive the mmmim for watching kollywood dial-in comedy shows. totally stand by it.

full month of burnt idlis for the mmmim coming up.

****
there’s a lot of good press about toddlerhood, infancy, bibs and breastfeeding. but i was too tired to notice. i found the first years of motherhood overwhelmingly exhausting ( on good days ) and exhaustingly overwhelming (on the other days).

and just when firstborn headed schoolwards, babyparam popped out. and there went another three years.

i want to go on record that i am not nostalgic about baby photos, prams and spit-ups. i dont miss the emergency runs, suppositories, and the dirtiest tee-shirts in this side of south east asia. i dont miss the four hour marathon feeding sessions, baby chairs and the backaches.

here’s my happiness haiku

you child
are three
am glad for me

of dosas and holes

i have this friend from udupi. and at her home, i have eaten neer dosa, masala dosa, godhi dosa, uppu dosa, mixie dosa … sometimes all in the same morning. heh heh.

her idea of making fresh chutney is dashing off to climb a coconut tree and plucking a coconut. since she cant do that here in KL, she has resigned herself to breaking a coconut after the guests arrive and moving in fullspeedandgrating grindinggreenchilliestadka voila chutney!

she even told me of a dosa-related proverb in kannada” “ellara mane dosenu tute” (every Dosa has a hole… ) and which conveys the larger meaning that we humans are have the same stories of sorrow and happiness.

humbled. i tried to think of a related tamil saying (while chewing on my neer dosa).

but i only got as far as aasai dosai appalam vadai . which kinda means no dosa for you.

good thing that the folks from udupi didnt know about that one. else i would have never gotten to eat uppu dosa, neer dosa, masala dosa, godhi dosa…

happily ever after

that’s the thing about living in malaysia…
neatly matches my lazy temperament.

a perfectly lovely concept of stretchable time. celebrations are PLANNED many days after the actual event.

eg. deepavali bashes are STILL on. my friends are still wearing silk sarees and lugging a neckfull of bling to deepavali parties.

baby param had a deepavali assembly in his school three days ago.

yesterday our building celebrated deepavali with an open house and a pot luck.

yep… and nobody prefixes the word “belated”. how perfectly wonderful, i say.
…

cookies from firstborn's kindie teacher. arrival date: about four days apres.

~~~~~~~~~

the mmmim got greeting cards. i fell off my chair in surprise. a world still not eaten by all things e?

___

ringgitt for the boys. about 7 days apres

___
at yesterday’s pot luck…

my tubfull of cow's milkiest and mtr's samea-est. payasam. firstborn's was alliterating about sowmya's who like samea...

__

going easy on the decorations. not.

—

going easy on the banners. not.

***

pretty packs of moolah that the kids keep raking in with amazing regularity

**

there is no such thing as too late for a dabba of murrukku…