What kind of mother would let her baby look so dirty?

What kind of mother would put her tiny baby in child care  and go off to work?

What kind of mother would feed her baby with frozen food instead of making it fresh?

… and so on. You could substitute grandma for mother here  .

A mother doing her best, I daresay, at that moment.

A person who isn’t actively involved with the child knows best how it should be handled and raised in the long term. The person actually trying to cope with a cranky baby and a hundred other things on her mind, is just trying to get past this moment. With most other Indians, I ve been there, mentally rasing strictures on what this mother shouldnt be or should be doing smug in my non-kid state .Till now, when Im involved once more in raising a baby And Im made aware of  the fact that sole child caretakers are among the most frustrated beings on earth.

We live in an unit with 7 apartments and in 6 of them, there is a young baby. No, its not as bad as you think; the walls are fairly soundproof here. Each one finds a coping strategy as best as she can. The chinese girl above lets it all out by screaming at someone, loudly. The Mid -east  girl goes to work, well dressed and sweetly smiling leaving her younger sister to cope. She does, with a variety of young men to keep her company. The Gujarati girl has gone back to mother’s at home, in India.  They dont have people to help them cope and they dont have disapproving eyes and looks either.

On trains and in malls, when Advaith tends to scream his head off, which  he is quite wont to do when put in the stroller,  actively resisting  being made a passive observer to the world , most people ignore this little drama politely or try and help, clucking at him. People dont proffer advice but do help if they think you need it like lifting the pram on to trains or off  or up and down stairs.

Having a baby around makes people perceive you as benign and   a perfect stranger will smile at you. Universally . It puzzles me because  Im the same person with or without a baby, but the presence of a baby makes me seem harmless and people do tend to smile when there is a well dressed sweet looking baby around. Its mostly women and older people who do it;young people are in a world of their own.

When I first came here, I was complaining that people here didnt smile. But now I realise they do,. Eyecontact usually elicits a smile or an acknowedgement. In India you could be asking for trouble if you smile at strangers and so we tend to look grim. But here, people do smile cheerily   or say good morning or just acknowledge your presence which makes one feel good.

And I realise the change is from within. I was closed up, wary of  new people when I came. Now I smile first or say hi and people do respond. So much of our internal attitude colors our world.

The city was planned and  built as the capital, in between the squabbling Sydney and Melbourne. The location is beautiful of course, in a flat valley surrounded by hills. The streets are broad and straight and well laid out, and on the Saturday morn, empty. Ghost Town was my first reaction.

First stop on any visitor’s list is the War Memorial. Its more than the statue of a brave soldier – a large museum of the wars Australia has fought. Being a very young country, they have fought a handful and strive hard to keep that history in memory.

Besides the paraphernalia of the solider at war, canteen, helmet etc, there are actual cannons captured from the germans, war tanks and torpedos. Models of places where action took place and Australian soldiers lost their lives dot the rooms. But the best part is the airforce of the second world war. Small planes are suspended from the roof, speakers bring in the whoor of planes flying ,in one corner a newsreel plays. One is transported to a different era. How, did anyone fly that little thing bravely and then fire guns from that! When we leave the War memorial, we cannot help but thinking about all those young men who so bravely went off to war and lost their lives in such hostile environments.

Right opposite at the end of a wonderful avenue is the Parliament House. Graceful, simple, well designed, it welcomes visitors ‘ 7 days a week, unfortunately for us’ as a guard put it. The actual house is small but the view from the rooftop is spectacular.

Lunch with new found relatives broke the day very pleasantly. Older expatriates are so happy to get in touch with people from backhome. And surprisingly, they are so well informed on Hollywood and Bollywood news!

There was  time to go around the huge artificial lake and relax a bit by its shores, watching families picnicking with  wind surfing, boats, swimming, sailing.. all the Australian outdoor loves.

The drive home took more than 3 hours and was the best part of the day. Miles and miles of empty pasture dotted by few barns and houses. There were cattle farms, sheep farms, horse breeding farms, vineries along the way. But still, very few people in this vast landscape.

Yesterday  it was this Bangladeshi gentleman who was panting a bit with the exertion but still insisted on helping. And then took  the conversation further while we waited for the train. He advised my daughter to write to the Minister of Transports to ask for a lift to be installed. Later , he was asking her how do you say ‘I love you’ in Tamil. Maybe he had picked this up as a wonderful ice breaker from some movie. But our  instinct was then to head for a   a different compartment. Lo and behold he appeared there a bit later with the address of the Minister written down. Happily we had to get off at the next station, while he looked rather unhappy.

Today he was there at the mall, walking round and round hoping to find someone to talk to.

When we go out, I notice there seem to be a lot of old people about, many of them single. The ratio of old people may not be greater than in India. Its just older people back home are not mobile.  Here, the elderly can get around more easily by car, bus or walk. Or even if they are in a wheelchair. Pedestrian crossing is simple with traffic signals and traffic is sparse in suburbs like this. All buildings, shops, pavements have wheelchair access. There is a community centre and library with organised activities. The Council looks after older people with health care. Of course there is social security.

The mall and shopping centres are the fulcrum of social activity. One can wander around and buy a  couple of items at leisure, and then sit on a chair and bench and watch people and life eddy around .  Sometimes elderly Indian couples meet up at the mall and spend a couple of hours together, just chatting.  Single old people sit in the eating areas with a cup of coffee and spend an hour or two.  The morning gone, they can go home to their  flats to lunch and relax ; fresh for the next day’s outing.

When I first saw the loneliness on the faces of people as they wandered singly in the malls; I felt pity for them. In India, old people are surrounded by other people. They are within the family. But are they? In India too, often parents are abandoned or barely tolerated.  As the economics of the family slides downwards, the lives of the eldery goes down with it, becoming more and more shabby.

I wonder Is loneliness an equal  trade off for comfort and independence ? I suspect it is.

We took the river ferry from Paramatta to Sydney Harbour. To promote tours, tickets or just family togetherness, Sunday is Family Fun Day when the same  half price ticket can be used on the ferry, train or bus; provided you have one child in the group. And families made full use of the discount. The ferry, the wharfs, the buses and trains were crowded.; which Dharshini said was unusual. Maybe because it was the first sunny  days after  a couple of weeks of rain.

I had to keep reminding myself that I was actually in Sydney Harbour, at the Opera House. Such a long cherished dream. The opera house is an engineering marvel, which reminds one of the Bahai temple in Delhi, without the gardens. The flying away sails, the vistas of sea and garden and tall towers and of course, the bridge.  Two things made an impact. One was the attention to design everywhere, the exposed ferro concrete ribs, the ceilings, the lift without a ceiling,   even the toilets and wash basins were different. Other was watching a young man dance for a camera. He was not particularly tall ; dressed in shorts and T, wore a cap and what looked like canvas shoes, was muscular and tattooed. He twirled and moved on his toes, swooped and held poses; for two minutes at a time while a man and a woman with him shot the video. It was marvellous. I did not have the camera with me then, but I was glad because I could watch rather than think .

the wharf is a little park, where people feed the doves and take photographs. And families bring packed lunches to eat. There is the National Art Centre too. We chose not to enter any museums or shows. Watching people is action packed enough for me.

The railway station is right there and a large plaza behind where people can sit on benches, eat, play or just relax and wait for buses. Scattered around are entertainers, juggling or cycling or playing music and occasionally lying junked out. I wish we had such plazas back home, a breathing space which is not covered with pedlars.

The bridge was mammoth and although we wished to walk across, that will just have to happen some day. And maybe some day, we will be able to join the intrepid band who actually climb over the arch.

After lunch we took the ferry across to Darling Harbour, which is actually another point across. But more happening. The Maritime Museum is here and Cockle Bay, where Master chef Australia is shot. We couldnt actually locate the building, but just being on the same turf is a high. The whole marina is lined with restaurants and bars and people are just sitting outside under trees or umbrellas sipping their wine and enjoying the play of sunshine on the blue waters.

By then, it was time to take the ferry home. The crowd was large and so we took the bus to the main station and the train back home. On the bus, one girl got up to give me and Advaith a seat. She turned out to be a Nepali girl , Jothi, studying accountancy  and with her was her friend Susheela! It took 3 of us to stop Advaith pressing the STOP button for the bus which was nearby. They said they work part time at the Zoo. I didnt ask doing what because it is much better to imagine them feeding the birds instead of the more probable giving out tickets.

Prashanth came to get us happily at Westmead station and we wound up a lovely day watching ‘Theiva thirumagan’ a wonderful movie about a wonderful person.

That’s what under-3′s were doing this morning in the community Library at Wentworthville, Sydney. And on other Tuesday mornings when their Moms can get away from home for about 20 minutes which is about the outside of the maximum you can keep the crawlers and toddlers under control.There were some grandmas and one Dad too, looking a bit sheepish when he had to do some actions.

The Librarian hands out the song sheets and the adults sing along and try to get the children to do the actions , demonstrated with a very lifelike baby doll by the jolly Librarian. She handed out some feel-touch  books and some  castatnets to increase the noise and feelings of particpation.

I thought it was a great thing for lonely young mothers. All in all, they seemed to enjoy the  meeting much more and the babies too got a little social interaction.  One young Tamil mother came home with us later; she seemed very lonely here, with her husband out the whole day. Young mothers these days have given up their careers to have the baby and miss their social life very much. More so, when  they live in  a foreign land, with little help and contacts. This did seem like a good community effort to bridge the gap partially. We met the young mother from the apartment above at the library while we rarely run into her at home!

And of course the library was great too.

Flying is still a rare mode of transport for me, and  so I still enjoy all the details of  airports and airplanes and taking off ; including the geography map spread out below. The food too! The  glamorous airport at Singapore left me open mouthed .Changing planes was not too bad as I had feared. How much I   fear needlessly!

First impressions of Sydney in first two days – suburbia is so pleasant. Genteel. Picturebook houses in red brick;  so few cars and people on the roads. Neat roads and pavements lined with trees and grass. No front walls.  Running water- hot and cold, the abundance of choice in the supermarkets; the fastness of the internet; joys of comfort.

The apartment is new and neat. The kitchen is open to the living room which was a bit of a shocker.  But a few days later, I dont notice at all. That is why it seems good to record impression and ideas while they are still new. The balcony over looks a large park which makes the house , oh so pleasant. And the presence of quirky, black eyed Advaith makes life so much better.

This was obviously last week. But still gives happiness so Im in recall.

In a burst of energy, I made gulab jamuns, badam halwa, murruku and thengai burphy ( in decreasing order of success). The murukku was a first time trial and I was very surprised at how easy it can be.

Since I was sharing my limited stock with only half a dozen people, I took some trouble over the packing.  I went shopping for plastic jars and ended up with those green glass ones which looked much better. Serendipity was  being inspired to buy small candle holders , filling them with badam halwa and covering the glasses with cling wrap. Im still a bit overwhelmed with my brilliance.

And actually delivering the goods took a whole day, having been rather out of circulation for a while.

So I had my fun tripled – cooking, shopping and visiting.

I must say, all the effort was greatly appreciated. In store bought, driver delivered deepavali-times, home made stuff is hot stuff.

Stop us  from just doing something, starting  a course of action,  committing, having fun… even writing a blog post. Because the morrow may wreck all the plans made today.

Last week, I felt the urge to start writing again on mittapink here, and got halted by the thought ‘ I am going to be travelling soon; I probably won’t be able to continue posting regularly, so should I ?’ And I let the second thought override.

But now, I recall that the prime philosophy (altho that does sound serious), behind  mittaipink was to live for today. Do something new, let myself explore , and let go all I can. Think of today and live it as well as I can.

So here goes, and I  will write whenever and wherever possible.

A dream, a vision coming true after a long while.

We found our space for our library, did the puja this morning and shifted all the books we’ve been collecting over 2 years this afternoon. Like a good Mani Ratnam movie, the skies poured in the background but who cared. All the members of our little NGO were elated and we discussed plans long past lunchtime.  Activities, book readings, story telling, contacting the schools, publicity to reach village schools, everyone was bubbling over.

‘Everything happens at the time it is meant to happen’… Maybe this is true. For the past two years we have been pursuing  Collectors, CEOs, Headmasters,  Councillors in the hope that someone would give us room to open a free children’s library. Commercial space didn’t fit into our small  budget.  We would get promises which would fizzle out.

Finally this space, which does fit into our budget and suits us in so many ways. We saw it last Sat, and less than a week later we are in.

Siragugal is taking off.

On some days, though I have an added treat. An array of bright golden dots covering the ceiling and walls of my ahem..workroom. The firsttime I noticed them, I stood transfixed and tried hard to find the source but couldn’t. Because they disappeared after a while. I thought it must be something reflected from outside. They didn’t appear for the next few days. And then they did, and I could see that it was reflection of sunlight from a hundred little mirrors on this ball which I had just put down on top of a cupboard temporarily, while I found a more permanent place for it. Of course now its there to stay and put a little bit of magic into some special mornings.

What makes your mornings special?