HOW TO SURVIVE YOUR SON'S "HOLIDAY"

Yours gets over the moment theirs start- no, not your life stupid, but your holiday. You have been dreaming of this moment for the past11 months,29 days,24 hours, 56 minutes and 30 seconds to be precise. In other words from the time you waved a teary farewell to your sons at the airport, you counted the seconds till they returned. When they did, your heart swelled with pride as you watched your US returned sons tread their hallowed home soil. And the next thing you know they are treading all over your precious freedom...

Its amazing how quickly the transformation takes place. From independent, responsible adults they digress to helpless teenage mutants the minute they walk through the door of their former abode. As you bustle along to the kitchen to make their favourite treats they collapse on the sofa and don't get up for the next 6 weeks.

Apart from a "How I missed your cooking Ma" which only serves to whip you into another cooking frenzy, conversation quickly returns to the one succinct question-"What's to eat?". You bravely battle in the kitchen, ignoring sullen help who have no tender feelings in their breast for your alien offspring but you begin to crumble when you see used coffee mugs lying around. You begin to do what you swore you would never- you swear at your overgrown progeny. You might as well save your breath. They refuse to move for a week citing jet lag, and after that they just lie inert -the laggards.

Your favorite sofa where you enjoyed a lazy afternoon snooze has been commandeered by son No.2 while son No.1 has taken over the whole house and the T.V to boot. You and your husband walk around like harassed immigrants either putting clothes in the machine or taking them out to dry. No longer can you watch T.V since the remote is firmly clenched in the offspring's hairy hands- not that you had a minute to sit and view anything anyway.

You decide to put your foot down after 2 weeks since your legs feel like lead and your heart is brimful of unmaternal thoughts. You decide to recourse to the lecture- the one where responsibilities are clearly outlined, the law is laid down and you establish kindly but firmly that you are the boss. Just save your breath. It never worked when they were kids( except then you could gain instant gratification with one backhand slap for minor infringements) and it won't work now.

The two outstanding Phd. students who run their homes in the US, drive cars, cook their own food, do their laundry and listen to orders from their boss have mysteriously meta morphed into the slobs you booted out years ago- its their inner slothful egg which has hatched out again. Get wise- the next time your "kids" come home to visit, take them to a holiday home- a place where you can holiday and they feel at home. Otherwise, those tears coursing down your cheeks as you bid farewell at the airport could be one of sheer relief. Be smart and book a place right now as you exit the airport. You have exactly 11 months, 29 days, 24 hours, 56 minutes and 30 seconds before they return......

Nimmou Nilakantan

A POEM FOR MAMI, WHO DIED AGED 84 YEARS(read at her memorial service)

We are gathered here to remember
A life that was well spent
A simple soul who showed us
That happiness lies in being content...

A smile always lit her face
As she met you during her walk
She never needed language or words
Her eyes or hands would talk

No occasion in Natasha was complete
Without Mami taking part
Her warmth and childish glee
Deeply touched all our hearts

There are many words to pay tribute
So many things to say
You touched all our lives
In some special way

Among the friends I hold dear
You will always be
That special person I cherish
Dear and sweet Janaki Mami...

Nimmou Nilakantan

MENOPAUSE-A MORTAL SIN

Menopause makes sexual deviants of us- instead of lusting for men, we lust for food. And that is why we put on weight and blame it on everything but our palates. If our men wore a block of cheese on their heads or put a piece of cake on a body part we would never reach for, we’d be all over them like a rash.

With menopause, a plate of food looks far more enticing than any man. And, along with the hunger for food the hunger for any kind of activity, mostly the sexual kind, reduces to zero. At least, performing in bed burns around 300 calories unless like the average Jane, you lie in bed like a cement block planning the day’s chores while your man does the grunt work. An occasional groan at the thought of pending work keeps him titillated and keeps you connected, well sort of...

So there you have it- Eureka! why women become whales at menopause. Instead of romancing the Stone (our husbands), we romance the plate. We might as well enjoy gluttony in our old age as we enjoyed lust in our youth.

As long as we are sinning, might as well go whole hog. Amen!

Nimmou Nilakantan

OUR SOCIAL NETWORK - NOSEBOOK!

People in most metros have pastimes; in Chennai - meddling is the No.1 pastime. With such a huge network of relatives, the opportunity to wreak havoc in each other’s lives is endless. The platform is all there. Weddings where one meets, greets and eats while poking one’s nose into the others affairs is the no.1 hunting ground. Deaths provide another opportunity to pry, albeit solemnly and in hushed tones. Births, naming ceremonies, 60^th birthdays, 80^th birthdays, housewarmings- the hunting ground is large and there is always some sitting duck who is the perfect target for an interfering old biddy who is too lazy to do anything but watch Sun T.V. and then enact the same drama elsewhere.

In Bangalore you see old people in parks with tennis shoes peeking out from under their saris, gamely waddling around or attempting Yoga Asanas or clapping their hands in glee in Laughter Clubs.

Her evil doppelganger in Chennai is the old hag in pattu saris with that diamond nose ring glinting evilly as she pokes her nose in, you guessed it, where it does not belong.....

Nimmou Nilakantan

(nee Writerberg, founder Nosebook, no followers, no income)

(Dec 23^rd, 2010)

OUR MUTANT PLANTS....

They blossom with studied neglect...but it is not flowers that bloom. Curled up leaves in different shades of yellow, brown and green and soil cracked in different geometric patterns. Stalks that stand proud in stark simplicity after leaves and flowers have withered and fallen out. Our plants represent a wasteland of different sizes, shapes and colours. And yes, they have a certain beauty invisible to the critical eye used to moist greenness and freshly turned earth.

Life is like our mutant plants. You just have to see beauty not always apparent on the surface. Conformity kills... it destroys the need to be independent and free spirited. Keeping up with the Joneses is just another way of always running and remaining rooted to the same spot. So, when people cluck when they see our wasted collection of indoor landscaping, I feel sorry for them. They haven’t opened the inner eye which sees beauty in the strangest places....

Nimmou Nilakantan

(Too lazy to water plants and yet energized to write about it!)

(Dec 23^rd, 2010)

DON’T BE A “DO- GOODER”- BE A “GOOD-DOER!”

Everybody is so busy trying to do good that there is a real danger that we might run out of people to do good to. Anybody you meet proudly announces that they are raising funds for so and so charity, helping the aged, guiding the blind, uplifting the poor, aiding cancer research till their “goodness” gives them a halo around their heads. So, where does that leave us poor mortals who firmly believe that charity begins at home and stuff our faces in a vain attempt to feel good? There is only one thing to do to counter these angels of mercy- no, do not grow horns to pierce their haloes but be the gracious receivers of goodness and I don’t mean charity. This is how it works….

You fall ill. Your friends rally around. Some genuinely want to help. Others want to feel good by visiting you and generally making a nuisance of themselves by offering help but not actually helping. This is how you become a “good-doer”. Let them visit you. If this means locking away your prize Rottweiler when they arrive and removing the padlock from the front door, so be it. Then ooh and ah about what a solace they have been in your time of need and how you could never have got through this without their help. Ergo- you have it. Without raising a million bucks for charity (best left to the professional do-gooders) you have made a person feel like a million bucks and surely that counts…..

All of us know that parents are brimful of advice. For years they turned a deaf ear to their parent’s well-meaning words and now they just cannot resist bending the ears of their re-calcitrant children. Lend them your ears! I quote. What does it cost you, apart from a deep well of resentment which you can then pass onto your children? This is your form of a “goody- doer”- by listening and seeming to hang onto every word you make your parents feel like God- and that to me is divine goodness….

Then there is your doctor who for a hefty sum is supposed to cure you of all ills. Poor guy, all he has to look forward to is a list of complaints and even his casual greeting of “how are you?” is met with a barrage of excruciatingly painful details. Try to be a bit more upbeat the next time you meet this doomed professional. Swear his prescription is working wonders even if you have chucked it into the bin and express your unswerving faith in his healing powers. Remember, faith does move mountains even if it cannot dislodge that hacking cough……

Then there is your 3^rd grade teacher who filled your report cards with rude comments that shaped you into the stunted individual you are. Nevertheless, you made more money in a career that she pronounced you unfit for and more than she could ever earn with her caustic comments in report cards. So, as you stride up the dais to receive yet another award for exemplary contribution to mankind’s progress, do her a favour- thank her from the bottom of your heart(you know the place where deep, dark feelings reside) and loftily declare that you would never have reached this far but for her unswerving faith(in your failures). So, instead of donating zillions to charity you have done your service to humanity….

There are endless opportunities to do good- just look around you. The spouse who took you for granted and thus forced you into deep conversations with your inner child, the servant whose unreliability propelled you into this multi-tasking dynamo, the kids who launched you into the brilliant business of thank-you notes with their endless ingratitude, the dog whose resistance to toilet training forced you to walk 4 times a day and turned you into a potential marathoner… The list is endless. There is goodness everywhere but my goodness, there’s none like the one that makes others feel good…..

Nimmou Nilakantan

THE PARENT TRAP

It is the manhole that most parents fall into- becoming the self-appointed guardians of our children’s happiness, even after they have become adults…

All very well when they were kids and we could assuage hurt feelings with a lollipop. Once they grow up, we still extend the lollipop not realizing they no longer need the sweet on top but just the stick- for supporting the actions they take whether right or wrong. The worst things we parents do are to try and sweeten their lives when it is no longer in our capacity or business to do so…

When they were helpless babies we had to take care of their every need; (as we keep reminding them not so gently) physical, mental and emotional. But, we just forget how to let go and still see ourselves as primary caretakers, not realizing that we imprison them with our care….

Learning to let go is the hardest lesson a parent has to learn. LET GO- let them make mistakes and learn from it. Listen to them, trust them and talk to them but put that sticky tape on your lips or suck on that lollipop yourself rather than launching into a diatribe about what to do. What worked for you does not work for them. They occupy a different body, a different mindset and just as a pair of eyes can view the same things differently, so too will they experience life’s differing hues and colours- therein in lies the beauty of evolution.

When it comes to health, parents become paranoid. We want our children to be free of the pain we suffered and unfortunately, as our suffering grows with our advancing years, so too does our yen to spare them the same. Life does not work that way…

The carrot juice that gave you 20/20 vision can give your child diarrhea- it is as simple as that. We know exercise is good for us but what we forget is exercising options is a vital tool in living life fully…

Being told what to do except by a doctor, is the most unpleasant medicine and that is one of the worst traps that parents regularly set for their children. Telling them what to do just because it worked for them….

Instead, equip them with the tools to battle life and let them use it as they deem fit .It is the only way a parent and offspring can have a healthy and loving relationship. Otherwise, fall into the manhole of thinking you know what’s best for your children even when they are adults and all you end up with is sewer rats for company. Gnaw on that for a while…. .

Nimmou Nilakantan

10 GOLDEN RULES FOR THE EMOTIONALLY CHALLENGED-READ HUSBANDS

1) Don’t believe her when she says it is the thought that counts- go buy those flowers stupid!

2) Stop doing the dishes and expect the earth to move-opt for those salsa classes and the marital bed might…hips don’t lie!

3) Being a good provider is just not enough-be a good listener to the entire litany of woes- bad hair, bad maid, bad friends, bad figure and keep that “I totally get you look” pasted on….

4) Be observant- compliment her on her weight loss every few days even if it takes a microscope to notice it….

5) Learn the word no and use it…have I become fat? No! Will you fall out of love with me if I do become fat? No! Do I look a hag? No! With a little practice and a lot of emphasis on the word no she will buy it…

6) Learn the word yes –and use it… do I look thin? Yes! Do I look young? Yes! Would you like to go out today? Yes! Do you like my family? Yes! Get the idea? And say it with emphasis…yes!...

7) Sharpen your memory skills, not just the short term memory. You need to lose that especially when it comes to marital spats! I’m talking about remembering birthdays, anniversaries, names of 31^st cousins, and a few other of her favourite things. Otherwise the only overwhelming flavour in your relationship will be bitter and that is the opposite of sweet, in case you need it spelt out…

8) Wear different hats and change them constantly… friend, lover, favourite punching bag, sexy stranger- be quick on the draw and whip it out when the occasion demands it- not the leash silly, the hat!.....

9) Don’t talk about work. Just bring home the bacon and it will sizzle in the pan. Bore her with details and that bacon might find the eggs and fries in someone else’s dinner more to her taste….

10) And, finally- just do as you are told. Sit, stand, lie down, beg, wag….whoever said it’s a dog’s life got it absolutely right!

Nimmou Nilakantan

notes to myself

Don’t try to be the best- be the best you can be. Better yourself rather than besting others. There is a huge difference. Be happy with what you can achieve to the best of your potential rather than competing with somebody else’s talent or ability. Why limit yourself? You can go the furthest, beyond what you imagined, but if you set yourself a horizon dictated by another’s capability then you will never achieve all that you can..

Negativity is the worst personality trait. It sabotages effort, dims the view of the future, shatters hope and impedes progress. The negative vibe can drain the battery of our body so fast that we can actually die in situations we consider hopeless- like poor health. Whereas, positive energy charges us, infuses us with hope and gives us courage and a fighting spirit- the essence of life is optimism. Banish the negative person and the negative thought- both are harmful to health…….

Nimmou Nilakantan

HOW TO SURVIVE SICKNESS

Now, you know how babies feel as they lie helpless and have people drool all over them. Except, no one drools over you (you do it yourself in your sleep but that’s different) and the feeling of helplessness, as you lie sick in bed, makes a baby out of you. As you get a stream of well wishers to cluck and moan over you, you are denied the satisfaction of regurgitating your last meal over some of them. So, how do you cope? Definitely not by lying still and playing dead….

Of all the visitors sent by hell to plague ill people on earth, there are none as irritating as the bright and cheery souls dedicated to lift you out of your well of depression. She wafts into your room looking like a million bucks and as you gaze at her from your hollowed out eye sockets, you wish that the earth would open up and swallow her. Here you are lying with limp greasy hair spread over your pillow and in your oldest nightgown which bears mute testimony to untold disasters in the kitchen, your skin is exactly the same colour and texture as the lizard on the wall and here is this goody two-shoes bouncing around like a well decorated ping pong ball all over the room. If you had a little more strength you would draw the bedcovers over your head during the entire duration of her visit but since that’s beyond your current capabilities, you do the next easiest thing- close your eyes and meditate. And, don’t open them till your visitor leaves, unless you revel in feeling really sick…

In direct contrast to Ms Good Cheer is the “Seen it all, done it all type”. You might be dying of a rare, unheard of cancer but too bad pal- not only did she get it three years before but she actually died from it and was resuscitated by a combination of powerful drugs and even more powerful prayer. So what if you are lying there with every bone, muscle and sinew aching? Stop making such a fuss- it’s nothing compared to what she has been through and now look at her. With this model patient you cannot close your eyes and wish her gone as the likelihood of her leaning over and prising your eyelids apart is very real- nothing will thwart Ms Steely Determination. She has been through living hell and boy, is she going to do the same for you. She pats you on the back causing tremors to course through every part of your body, she ruffles your hair (omigod, more just fell out when she did that), she plumps your pillow, she bellows at you to be brave and then she impales you with her stern stare and informs you that she will come every day to monitor your progress. The only recourse left to you in the face of this grim reaper is to roll over and play dead-seriously…..

Then, there is the moaner. She knows she has a captive audience in you. Her husband has fled on tour and hasn’t returned in the past 16 years, her children have graduated and similarly fled the coop for distant shores and her maid unfortunately is a deaf and dumb mute. You lying there, are her last and only hope and boy, has she been waiting for this. As she launches into a detailed monologue of all the ills that plague her, you realize that a desperate situation like this calls for a desperate remedy. Offer her a cup of coffee and slip in two of your sleeping pills. The only one likely to notice her absence is the long suffering maid and what are the odds that she will talk about it.....

And then, there are those rare gems that bring you flowers, listen to you with real sympathy, cook you meals, run your errands for you and generally ensure that you get well as soon as possible. If you have such a friend, cling on to them for dear life. And, when it is your turn, as the good book says, do unto others….Now, now, put away that meat cleaver…..and grab that bunch of flowers.

Nimmou Nilakantan