When I got married, I did not know how to make hot water. So things like muruku and idiyappam were quite intimidating. I was almost thankful that my mom did not buy me a murukku nazhi (murukku/idiyappam press) as a part of kitchen stuff I carried from India to US. “First become an expert in sambar/rasam and idlis before you venture in to complicated stuff” she said and I thought that it made sense. I still remember the initial idli days when YadaaYadaa and I used to grind the batter together, mostly because we were afraid to do it alone. After numerous rock idlis, doasas that refused to leave the ladle, India map chapathis, we kind of settled in to a generic formula. Soon I was feeling brave to venture in to uncharted territories – medhu vadai, masal vadai, adai, paruppu urndai kuzhambu, usili, modhagam, pidi kozhukattai and the likes of such followed. But I never attempted anything that would require special cooking tools.

After a nearly a year of marriage, I decided to try idiyappam at home. But the problem was the nazhi, I did not have one. So I bought one during my next trip to India. It was a regular aluminum mold, T-shaped, the kind that needs to be pressed on both sides. The handle was so hard that I had to wear mittens to protect my hands. I started experimenting with idiyappam. One day the idiyappam dough was so hard that I had to ask R for help. We both grabbed one side of the press each and applied our full strength to the press. Result, a broken nazhi. Relatives in India were horrified that the dough was so hard that the nazhi broke

I decided that I am not waiting for the next India trip and purchased from the local Indian stores, the kind that has a rotary handle, for $14.99. Relatives in India were aghast, by the price of the press or by my resolve to keep at idiyappams, I don’t know. I have to say that this press served me rather well. Only three plates came with the press – a single star, a single thin rectangle and multiple fat circles. I made chunky idiyappams, but the taste was all right. Deepawali came and I made murukkus too and was quite happy with the results.

After 5 or so years, R was getting tired of the star murukkus. He really likes the smooth ones. But for some odd reason I never found a nazhi that had the right sized circle holes. It has been 11 years and that is when this came in to our lives.

This nazhi belonged to my MIL. It is almost 75+ years old, made of finest quality Burma rose wood, heavy but smooth from all those years of use. The nazhi used to belong to my MIL’s MIL. Apparently my great MIL’s senior daughters-in-law had dibs on this nazhi and my MIL, the youngest of the daughters-in-law got it, to the heavy dissatisfaction of the other DsIL, I must add This nazhi has accompanied my MIL in all her trips to the US. The nazhi and her tattered 50 year old recipe book would definitely be in the top ten things she packs in her suitcase. She has put it to good use all these years I must say. Every time she visited us, my MIL made sure that there was an unending supply of fried goodies for R to munch. She would skip her mid-day siesta and churn out murukku, ribbon or omapodi. This was a regimen she strictly followed every ten days. It was purely her way of telling her grown up son, that she loved him fiercely. Tad too fierce, but hey that’s purely me

Now the nazhi has been passed to me. At first, the impact was minimal. But last Saturday as I was making murukkus, both the mullu murukku and the smooth ones, it finally sank in to me. For my MIL to give up something that she has had for most of her life…..I don’t know….. I felt very emotional about the whole thing. Some things have the power to stir up powerful emotions in a person and the nazhi most definitely did it for me.

Technorati Tags: idiyappam press, mullu murukku, murukku, murukku nazhi, thenkuzhal, wood murukku nazhi

Tora Bora lives with her sister Bula/Bieja, their trusty pets Kumar seval (Kumar the rooster) and two parakeets namely Pachai Pazhuppu (pachai = green, pazhuppu = brown) and Ilamsivappu Neelam (ilamsivappu= pink, neelam = blue). She has an arch rival, Looter as in the person who tries to loot things from others.

Looter is not as bad as one would imagine. He is not the typical black or white kind of villain. He has multiple shades of gray, like all of us do. Given the circumstance and his impulsive way of thinking, he makes some regrettable choices.

For example, he steals Tora Bora’s pet fish because he badly wants to take care of something. Then Tora Bora and Kumar seval open the atlas and look for the place that is highlighted and travel there to retrive the fish. Tora Bora gives Looter a valuable lesson, ‘Don’t just take. Ask. If you need something you need to ask/work for it.’

Once Looter stole everything under Tora Bora’s Christmas tree. Tora Bora came down to find an empty tree. Even the lights and decorations were gone. The atlas pointed the duo to Iceland. She tracked Looter and found Looter and his whole family enjoying Tora Bora’s goodies. But Looter did it only because he didn’t have enough time and money to get his own presents for his own family. Tora Bora understood Looter’s plight, she shared her presents but only after reprimanding him for the act.

You get the idea. Every time Looter strays from the path of righteousness, Tora Bora and Kumar Seval step in and do the necessary. But the thing is, Looter never learns. He always relies on his impulse and Tora Bora never gives up on Looter. Unreal, but it is essential for sequels. Besides who is looking for logic? Then a lot of elements have to be cut from the story and we would have a bland, preachy monologue.

Just like Pipi Longstockings, the story focuses only on the children and the pets involved. There is not much mentioned about the parents, school and the likes of it.

Why am I rambling about all this?

This is the girls’ bedtime routine. They come up with a location, something out of random, Lebanon (CA, Why Lebanon you asked and this is the answer), Reykjavik (Iceland), Papua New Guinea…no rhyme or reason for the location. R has to look up something about these places and build a story around the place. He does an excellent job at this. He talks about snow sleds in Iceland, the wonders of Machu Pichu in Peru, the vastness of the Thar desert or the beauty of Taj Mahal in India, the paddy fields in Thailand and so on. He talks about the natural beauty and historic significance of the place/object. He is so good at this that the girls have christened him Storyman. When it is time for bed, they lie in bed and start chanting ‘storyman, storyman, storyman….’ and our dude makes his entrance and stuns them with the story.

As for me, I sit on the couch in the living room and listen to the story. After observing for months, I found that there always a context. The choice of place from the girls is always inspired by something that they heard at school or read in a book or simply mentioned by their friend. Another thing I have observed is that a storyteller can never be extraordinary if he just tells the story. He has to live it, give his interpretation of things, be emotionally involved, only then the story shines. I have heard Tora Bora rescue the arctic squirrels from the mean hunter Bora Palin, the abducted fish pet swimming in the paddy fields of Thailand and making big noise about how he is from the US and the paddy field is not up to his standards and such. R is very guarded and is a man of few words. So for me, it is like a window in to R’s mind. Sometimes it reiterates how different our thinking processes are. Sometimes it pleasantly surprises me with the things we have in common. Sometimes it just makes me laugh, roll on the floor, hold my stomach, tears from eyes laugh, which is what banned my presence in the room and landed me on the couch.

Looking forward to many more stories, Storyman, from the couch of course.

Technorati Tags: atlas, bed time, kumar seval, story telling for children, Storyman, tora bora

Chula: Amma, tell me about Lebanon.
Me: Errr…Lebanon?
Chula: I want to know about Lebanon.
Me: Okay, why do you want to know about Lebanon?
Chula: Because, I don’t know about Lebanon. That is why I want to know about it.
(Told with a sigh, eyes rolling, hand shaking and intonation as if explaining it to Rainman)
Me: But I don’t know anything about Lebanon
Chula: Googal it amma.
Me: What it?
Chula: Googal it.
Me: What is google Chula?
Chula: It is something that lives in our computer and when we ask a question it tells us an answer.

So we know about Googal, inspite of not introducing Googal formally.

Technorati Tags: google

Technorati Tags: google

This has a lot of Tamil content which will be lost in translation. Serious apologies for the non-tamil.

When I was a kid, I remember playing with my friends:

Gopala…Yen Sir ->Yenge pore? ->Kadaikku poren ->Yenna vaanga? ->Roti vaanga ->Yenna roti? ->Bun-roti ->Yenna bun? ->Tea bun ->Yena tea? ->Chakra tea ->Yenna chakaram? ->Vandi chakkaram ->Yenna vandi? ->Mattu vandi ->Yenna madu?…………..

…..and so it goes.

I remember another version, the beginning of which I don’t remember. But it goes something like this…

…Upma ->Yenna uppu? ->Kal uppu ->Yenna kal? ->Ma kal ->Yenna ma? ->Teacher amma ->Yenna teacher? ->Kanakku teacher ->Yena kanakku? ->Veetu Kanakku ->Yenna veedu? ->Maadi veedu ->Yenna maadi? -> Mottai maadi -> Yenna mottai? ->Pazhani mottai.

Basically there are many versions, but the idea is to keep the answer tied to the previous question and forming the basis for the next question. Sort of like word play.

Why this sudden nostalgia? The resident three year old A.K.A Ms.Pipi Longstockings(will tweet later on why this nick) A.K.A Mieja who is a hybrid of why-why girl and the never ending story girl has taken to a never ending loop of questions.

On a regular day this is how it goes:

Amma what are you doing?

I am eating.

What are you eating?

Breakfast.

What breakfast?

Upma?

What upma?

Aval upma.

What is aval?

Beaten rice. Poha.<I explain the whole process of making aval. But all the words I use have clearly circumvented the head, none other than the first two words have entered in to the ear of the said child.>

Why do they beat the rice?

To make aval.

What do you do with the aval?

I make upma.

What do you do with the upma?

I eat it.

For???

Breakfast or for a snack.

Amma, what are you eating?

At which point I am singing in my head “Devuda devuda ezhumalai devuda, chooduda chooduda yindha pakkam chooduda……” Inside my head because I am afraid of questions like what is devuda? What is chooduda? Why are you singing that song? What does that mean?………

Technorati Tags: preschoolers curious about everything, preschoolers asking questions, old tamil word games

Technorati Tags: old tamil word games, preschoolers asking questions, preschoolers curious about everything

Contd from part I.

She is at home because her school is closed for Gandhi Jayanthi. She washed her hair, children stayed off from clawing each other, her best friend was going to stop by and the husband was on his way home…. a good day…an over all sense of elation is prevailing.

She opens the door to check mail and she sees a package.

Her mind races at the speed of light. Books from Amazon? Nope. She didn’t order any. Besides why would Amazon gift-wrap it like this? Gift from India? Yeah right! Dream on greedy person……

She picks the package and looks at the ‘from address’ Wait a min….. Tharini from Winkiesways? Package from T? She has a rough idea as to the ‘why’, but the ‘what’ is still throbbing in her head.

OMG, she loves surprises. She loves presents. She loves opening presents. In fact she loves it sooooo much that as of a year back, she was opening all her kids’ birthday presents. This is like….this is like….pure joy. She feels like a small child. She is shaking and sniffing the package trying to guess what is inside.

Ok, she gives up. Inside her head a voice is screaming ‘OPEN AND OPEN IT ALREADY.’ She runs the tip of her car key at the corners of the box, opens the package and wrapped in a newspaper is ……..

A throw cushion with hand made embroidery
showing a mother and her two children, all three,
full of glee,
under a tree,
not any tree,
but a Banyan tree,
with the Sun all shiny
and the grass dewy,
for it is the blog banner of yours truly

With the package is a hand written letter taped to a thank you card. The sight of the neat script, that is so precise and beautiful, some how completes the experience. She is thinking ‘Aren’t hand written notes the best?’. She is scanning the notes from top to bottom, savoring the feeling, making the sense of completion last a bit longer.

All this kindness for what? Because she advised T to take it easy and relax?! Apparently yes. T says in her note, “I wanted my ‘Thank You Loads’ gift to be a gesture of the permission for the relaxed time you enabled me to sanction myself and here is the fruitful endeavor.”

All that is running through her mind is, ‘I must be truly blessed. Not just for all the love and kindness that is bestowed on me. But also to be able to recognize, be aware and appreciate the kindness that comes my way.’

Technorati Tags: kindness, thankful

Technorati Tags: hand embroidery, kindness, surprise packages, thanks you, throw pillow

Navarathiri has come and gone. Our golu dolls have been packed and tucked away in plastic boxes. For those who are wondering what I am talking about, navarathiri “means nine nights”. Golu is arranging dolls on steps in one’s house.

So why do South Indians display dolls for nine days during navarathiri? The belief is Goddess Durga, in order to slay the buffalo headed demon Mahisha – who was the embodiment of evil, meditated for nine days in order to gain strength and focus that was required to perform this deed. So dolls of gods and goddess are displayed on the steps. These dolls are considered the durbar of Durga and must not be moved/disturbed for the whole nine days. Special offerings are done very day in order to appease these various assortment of gods and goddesses in one’s home.

Not all South Indians celebrate navarathiri with golu. What used to be a matter of choice in the olden days became a family way of doing things. Growing up, golu was not the norm in my house. So as a child I have made sundal vists and dodged requests to sing. It is believed that people who come to golu have to sing in order to please the gods. But me singing would probably be in direct violation of the first premise that the dolls must not be disturbed. So I have always evaded the requests to sing with my trademark ‘asattu sirippu’. Who ever came up with the theory that all women have singing capabilities and those adhigaprasingi people who think that they can just say, “You have to sing. Otherwise you cannot leave my house.” *Rolling my eyes.* I always felt like answering, “Fine, I will move in….and will sing 24×7. Now THAT will teach you a lesson.”

In R’s house golu was celebrated in flourish. They used to be a joint family with all brothers, their wives and children living in a huge house. So golu was an occasion for the women in the family to express their artistic abilities. They made their own dolls, they created miniature parks and towns using what few things were available around the house. I am talking about 1960, when art and craft stores were non-existent. What with dressing up the kids, welcoming the visitors, golu was a major social thing for them. After R’s grandfather – the patriarch of the family died, the joint family arrangement slowly disintegrated and some how my MIL stopped the golu affair altogether.

I wanted to start golu at home, in order to show Chula and Mieja that we have a cultural equivalent of the Christmas tree. The understanding in the house since Chula has been 2.5 is, ‘You have a Christmas tree in your school. Your friends have a tree at their homes, because they are a tree family. But we are a step family. Every year around Oct we make steps and keep dolls for nine days. This is how our family does things.’ We waited for Mieja to turn three, so that she will not bring the steps down.

Year 2009 marks the first year that we formally start celebrating golu in our house. We did a five step golu and invited very close friends home for vethalai pakku. The idea is to keep the jing-bang relatively small and simple, so that I can sustain the tradition of golu for many years to come.

What one of my friend’s mom told me made a huge impact on me, in fact this was a driving force behind this post. She said,

“Devis, in olden days wore sarees had weapons and went on animals like lions or tigers in order to remove obstacle and to make the world a better place for every one present and for the future generation. You Devis, now a days wear pants, drive cars, but you are still doing the same. You are making the world a better place for your family through your love and you do everything in your capacity to remove all obstacles for your children.”

At that point I started thinking about all the Devis in my life. The more I think of all the support I got, the more I am moved by the love that surrounds me.

My chithi(my mom’s baby sister), who made a trip from Boston, to stay with me for two weeks, because this is my first golu. Though she is my chithi, she is only 12 years older to me. We grew up together and for all practical purposes, as sisters. We skip an entire generation, I call her by her name and Chula and Mieja call her chithi. For every major mile stone in my life, she has been there physically contributing her best. How can she miss my first golu? She did not make this trip to help me, she knows I can very well handle the golu and much more. But she said that she made this trip so that she can keep an eye one me, make sure that I don’t chew more than I can swallow and end up tired and all golued-out( pardon me for the expression ). Every step of the way, she was with me, bringing me back to focus when I spent half a day decorating and redecorating the golu backdrop, urging me to keep things simple, helping me make the prasadams, making kolams with the girls and clearing away the sink at the speed of lightning.

My mother, MIL and my SILs, though they were in India, I know for a fact that their hearts were in my house. Every moment of the nine days, they spent fanaticizing what the children would be doing, how I had arranged the dolls, how many people I would be inviting, how will I balance, work-home-kids-school-golu-visiting friends. Earlier this year my MIL and SILs visited us for about 6 weeks. Before their trip, my mother, my MIL and my SILs combed Chennai with a fine toothcomb in order to get dolls for my golu. How difficult is it to get a specific doll at off golu season, only they would know!

As I looked at my steps, I look at the different dolls I have acquired over the past years. Every single doll that has been displayed has a history behind it. Some highlights are

The electric silver lamps that my mother walked the whole of T.Nagar to buy, the pseudo banana tree that she looked for and drove my father crazy, the marapachi she sent over so that Chula and Mieja would know what kind of dolls she played with when she was a kid, the sandal wood Mahalakshmi my parents bought for our fifth wedding anniversary.

The foam Ganesha that YaadaYaada gave that reminds me of Meija. Something in the innocent hepless eyes or the way the Ganesha manages to loose his bindhi inspite of me super glue-ing the bindhis….

The chettiyar bommais that my first SIL bought. Mieja ALWAYS mixed the head and the body of the male and female and I would walk in to my living room and go, ‘Hmmmm something looks odd, but I cannot quite put my finger to it’.

The last step was for the kids. I gave them full autonomy as to what goes on it. They put all their Perler bead work on the last step. I have to point out to picture 15 in the slide show, the way the cups are hidden behind the house. When I suggested moving the cups in front of the house, I was rightly reprimanded by Chula, “Amma, the cups are not behind the house. They are IN the house. The people are having tea IN the house.” She walked away shaking her head disappointed that her mother couldn’t get this simple perspective.

Picture 16, the gold plated car R got from New Orleans when he went for a conference by himself. The first souvenir he bought back home without me asking ?

And for the laughs, when I asked the girls to get books from the bookshelf for Saraswathi Poojai, they got Twilight as MY book. I pointed that we must keep educational books and Twilight was fiction. They both echoed, “But, but you read this ALL the time?!”. Now you know of my reading tastes and why R calls me ‘thirty year old teenager’ ?

And then there was one act of supreme kindness a good week after navarathiri, that basically taught me that love is omnipresent and omnipotent. I will adjourn it for my next post, because I want you all fresh and alert when you read about it.

Now to my smilebox. Thanks for reading. LOVE, LAUGH, LIVE.

Make a Smilebox slideshow

Technorati Tags: navarathiri, golu, nine days

Technorati Tags: golu, navarathiri, nine days

You mention one word to ‘The Very Particular Girl’ and she constructs such vivid mental images that if put in words would fill a book.

The mother says ‘ice cream’ and ‘The Very Particular Girl’ imagines one scoop chocolate ice cream with sprinkles and M&Ms with a cherry on top, in a kids sized waffle cone. This to be had in the Cold Stone Creamery close to her house, sitting at the square table against the wall with three chairs around the table. She visualizes that her mother would be sitting next to her with a white plastic spoon on her hand. She visualizes that she is allowing her mother to swipe her ice cream from time to time and swatting her hands away at other times. She visualizes her younger sister sitting across from her eating vanilla ice cream with sprinkles and M&Ms in a kid sized sugar cone. She had already visualized what clothes the trio would be wearing.

If the mother had said ‘ice cream’ during an outing in which the little sister had not accompanied them…. no problem, she automatically assumes that they would go home, pick up the little one, change clothes and then go to the ice cream shop.

See the way the four-year-old mind works? She constructs an image, actually a movie clip, by gathering snippets from her past experiences. If the reality changes, the movie projection in her mind does not change. Her four-year-old brain is not that agile cognitively, so she changes reality in order to achieve her mental representation.

Of course reality being pretty real, there usually is a mismatch in the end result and the mental projection. Thus resulting in hands-flailing-legs-kicking-rolling-on-the-floor-tantrums. At times the mother has been afraid of ‘The Very Particular Girl’. There is no telling what ‘The Very Particular Girl’ is thinking and after the hoops the mother had jumped to do something that she thought would make ‘The Very Particular Girl’ happy, she had to face-ear-splitting-brain-melting-tantrums. Most disheartening of all, ‘The Very Particular Girl’ would come back home and pronounce the verdict that would descend on the mother like thunder “You made me very unhappy amma.”

After going through painfully small improvisations, one at a time, finally the mother and the ‘The Very Particular Girl’ have settled in to a routine. For anything activity they do, no matter how small it is, they draw up ‘A Plan’. A plan is nothing but a set of expectations, both the mother’s and ‘The Very Particular Girl’s’. Then they analyze what they can do if something unexpected happens and the plan goes haywire. The mother tells/warns at least 1000 times that one can only plan and life can throw surprises. The ‘The Very Particular Girl’ nods her head understandingly. Thanks to the plan, if something upsets ‘The Very Particular Girl’, she says, “But amma, that is not my plan.” The concept of ‘A Plan’ helps put things in perspective not only for the ‘The Very Particular Girl’, but at times also for her mother, because when you are a mother, you tend to just do things. In your heart, you are doing whatever you are doing in the best interest of your family. At times like that the little voice, filled with reproach helps the mother find her balance.

THE END

CAST AND CREDITS(Like you guys didn’t know all along!)
‘The Very Particular Girl’ – Chula
Mother – Yours Truly

Technorati Tags: Toddler tantrum, preschooler tantrums, how a child thinks, why do children throw tantrums

Technorati Tags: how a child thinks, preschooler tantrums, Toddler tantrum, why do children throw tantrums

PART 2 OF 2.

Find part1 here.

But if I rationally analyze the habit, it is only 30 minutes a day and they are exposed to age appropriate contents. The way I see it, TV and the Internet have become necessary evils in the modern world. The children are definitely going to be exposed to these mediums. I could either keep the children shielded and in the process shock them or give them the impression that they have to do things behind my back. So we like it this way in our house.

Anyways, now my amma is here with us and she has introduced her flavor to YouTube contents. The children watch old tamil cinema songs. They seem to like the songs in which there are kids dancing/jumping or songs with animals.

But YouTube is scary. We screen the contents completely before we show it to Chula and Mieja. This lesson I learnt the very first day while I was searching for jungle book video. Just because the title says Jungle Book, don’t trust the contents to be clean and child appropriate. The first click I landed from the search happened to have the title or a song dubbed over the original songs, ‘Jungle Book, how a bear molests a boy’…something like that. The second one I landed on was ‘Jungle book meets the saw’ where the animals were subjected to lot of violence. Even I got a little scared.

Without further ado, top hits at home,

Varavu Ettana, Selavu Pathana – Bhama Vijayam

It is sooo funny to see the two year old Mieja singing, ‘Kanniyaraga vazhanum yendraal pillagal yedtharkaga? Kaadhal seitha pavathukkaga, vere yedhuthaga?’ (Q:If you wanted to live a no strings attached life style, why did you have children? A:That is the curse of love making.) It is still in the stage where the adults find it cute. The fact that she does not have a clue about what she is singing adds to the cute factor. The little devil is such a joker. She knows this will make us laugh, so she uses this when she wants a laugh from us. She does something totally naughty, I am steaming, getting ready to unload a lecture and she would hit me with this song. Manipulatress.

Kanna Varuvaan, Kathai Solluvaan

Oodi Oodi Uzhaikanum, Aagattumda Thambi Raaja – Nalla Neram

Do I need to spell out the attraction in this song? The elephants and of course MGR with his orange kurta and orange payjama

Chella Pillaigalam – Yenga Mama

Nila Kaikirathu, Acham Acham Yillai – Indira

Anjali, Anjali, Anjali – Anjali

Natha Vinothangal – Salangai Oli

Janani, Janani – Thai mookambikai

Kurai Ondrum Yillai

Bhaja Govindam

A sample of Chula singing tamil songs.
Agattumda Thambi Raaja

Kanna Varuvaan

Kurai

And this is Mieja singing…
Varau Kannan

Saa Sing Nila

PART 1 OF 2

We have a giant monstrosity of a TV sitting in our living room. Our old 27 inch Sony is a trooper. Even after 12 years it is in perfect working condition. There was no need to upgrade. But the husband works in the field of Digital Video Technology and wanted a cool new TV. The guy hardly splurges on anything for himself, so I had no problems welcoming the TV with open arms.

Now, I am not a big TV watcher. When I was new to this country, most of the afternoons were spent in front of the TV. Then it came down to one sitcom a day and few movies over the week. Slowly over the three years other things started displacing TV time. Finally on the days, I do sit down to watch a movie, after the first 15 minutes, the TV is watching me. I am happily suspended in dreams lulled by the TV’s white noise.

The kids, used to watch PBS while we shoved food in to their mouth. At least that’s what Chula did. Now, Mieja being Mieja, NOTHING works with her. She would still watch TV without bating an eyelid and her hand would automatically swat the spoon that comes close to her. (I have a theory about her absorbing nutrients directly from air. Let me not digress.) Just around the time our ‘big giant TV’ entered our home, I was considering my options. For one thing I did not want to turn the TV on during every meal. The main reason is the amount of electricity it sucked. The second reason, I felt that the TV was simply too big. The children were getting mesmerized by the effect the big screen created and I could almost see squiggly, swirly lines in their eyes. I simply didn’t like what I saw. The third reason, if at all they watched something, I wanted them to watch something in their mother tongue. So I switched the kids to eating in the kitchen, while I read books. The children adapted well..err…Mieja was still swatting spoons, but hey it didn’t get any worse right?

But by the end of the day, I didn’t have the energy to work hard. So YouTube was introduced in to their world. I even remember how it all started. November 2007, Chula’s school had taken all the children to a special screening of The Jungle Book. I was very curious about Chula’s reaction to the experience. But the dame can be so tight mouthed. Even after endless pestering she only managed to say, ‘Yes’, ‘No’, ‘Uh-uh’. So I looked for jungle book clips in YouTube and showed it to the children, just to make Chula talk. Mieja was immediately hooked on. Then came a phase where we watched lots of Tamil rhymes on Youtube. Within a week the children memorized all the rhymes. They were greatly kicked when I was able to dig out some of their favorite books on video, so was I. Then came a phase where they started making specific requests on what they want to watch. The situation now got very interesting, because the computer had just replaced TV!

…Continued soon…

Me: Chula, today was amma’s last day in her school.
Chula: Huh?
Me: Yes, I will be working in a new place from June.
Chula: Huh?
Me: Let me see if you know MY new school is. The new school’s name is “{ Chula’s preschool}”…ta-da!!!
Chula: BUT…amma, that is MY school!
Me: Yes, what do you think, you and me in the same school?
Chula: No. NO. You can’t do that. You have to drop me in school and go…GO AWAY. You go to your college school, don’t come to my Montessori preschool.

So does it start this early?

Anyways, she will get used to it.

What say y’all?

PS: WELCOME TO MY NEW DEN.