Child again???

"Becoming a child again is what is impossible. That's what you have a legitimate reason to be upset over. Childhood is the most valuable thing that's taken away from you in life, if you think about it. "

- Heather O'Neill

We were at Anna’s brother’s place – the cousins were playing Monopoly except for the youngest, who is usually kicked out of such board games given his short attention span and disruptive nature. I had sneaked upstairs to catch up with my reading whilst the others were having their dinner. It wasn’t easy trying to read with noisy kids around but I happily welcomed their natter, loving the feeling of family around me.

It is a joyous experience for me to see my daughter amongst her favourite people in the world – her cousins. My niece means the world to her and my girl hangs on to every single word she utters. All of a sudden I sensed the game wrapping up - it was kind of abrupt and so I looked up my reading to see my daughter downcast while my niece and nephew were packing up. I found that my gal had accidentally brushed the pieces on the board while leaning forward to pick up something and seeing that it was close to bed-time my niece had called it quits rather than setting the board again. The cousins left for downstairs while my daughter was quietly sitting in her corner. I did not find anything amiss and would have quickly returned to where I had left reading, when something made me glance again in my daughter’s direction. I then realised she was trying her to best to hold back her tears and at my enquiry, quickly let the flood gates open. Amidst the sobs and gasps, I managed to hear the words she was choking on “we were having a good time, why do I always ruin good moments?”

My daughter isn’t exactly well coordinated – call it childish clumsiness or her leggy awkwardness, she is usually accident prone….something I hope she will soon outgrow of. But this did not seem the moment to point it out, rather my heart went out to her, self berating herself over something that was purely an accident. Besides, blaming herself for everything that goes wrong in the universe seemed totally “Sujatha” to me and the last thing I wanted for my daughter was to be a pea of the same pod and to believe in the “Sujatha” touch. A few hugs and kisses, some kind words and the worst disaster seemed to be averted. She was back to her confident self in the safe haven of my arms and bouncing down the stairs to make herself the star of perhaps another accident zone. I sat there marvelling at the resilient nature of kids, tears one moment, smiles the another – how hopeful and kind the world seemed to be at such an innocent and tender age.

I could not return back to my book instead I found myself wanting to be a child again. I wanted to believe in the wholeness of my universe again, to fall back to the magic of comforting words and tender hugs – I too wanted a wand that could make my world better again. Somewhere in the task of raising two kids and being an adult ( at least attempting to ), I found that I had come a long way from my own parents – today I stop to turn and look behind and find myself quite alone. Sometimes I think I wait for my mother's voice asking me to wrap up my playacting ( as an adult) and come home as it is getting dark.

The last few months have been so difficult for me – the past offering no comfort, the present and the future quite bleak. Too many painful decisions to take, one step ahead, two steps behind…..leaving me with the illusion of no progress made despite time flying past quickly. Like an alzheimer’s addled brains sometimes interspersed with lucid moments, I too have optimistic moments, but lately they have been very few on stocktake. In the end, I am left wanting for support…..comforting words that would bolster my self-esteem, rebuild my confidence, restore my faith in people and relationships…….perhaps this is where I envy my religious friends who seem to have their faith as a security blanket.......alas, no fattening of calves for this prodigal daughter.......home is still a far way to go.

“Amma”…..I hear Mugil’s cry permeating my consciousness and breaking into my reverie of thoughts. I am gently brought back to earth, his cry reminding me that life is not cyclic – once a phase is completed, it stays concluded. I can no longer return to being a child, besides did I not spend my childhood wanting to grow into an adult .....so, what am I talking about now? Is one's life all about wishing about pastures yonder?

I am slipping back on my mantle of adulthood, hastily skipping down the stairs to resume my role of the mother…….perhaps, to feel needed is a luxury too, I better enjoy it before the kids outgrow the need for their security blanket, their mom :)

The new girl in town - Part II

The house that Anna’s colleagues had picked for us is at 5-7 mins drive from Anna’s workplace.

Madhu’s school – 5-7 mins

Mugil’s daycare -5-7 mins

Shops 5-7 - mins

Library/post office/recruitment agencies – 5-7 mins

Cinema - 5-7 mins

"Welcome to Horsham" / "Farewell from Horsham” boards - 5-7 mins………

By now you might get the general idea, any nook and corner within Horsham can be reached from our place within 5-7 mins; the entire town traversed within 10-15 mins. Having said that, I should fairly be confident in saying that I cannot get lost in this tiny town, but I managed to do so quite successfully, the day I stepped out without the city map…….but yeah discovered the city’s botanical gardens and the anglers club instead of the transport office. No worries, plenty of hours to kill in the day…..sure will discover the transport office some day soon

Most of the stores are open for longer hours here – we sure did not believe that Woolworths is open till midnight…..had to take a trip to the store to see the timings for myself, was quite certain that Anna was taking the mickey out of me. If extended timings of grocery stores send me into raptures, should I be stopping here and taking a deep look at myself ?? :) We have already graced the town’s cinema with our royal presence, though the movie “Clash of the Titans” is a sure disappointment in terms of both 3D effects and money spent.

There are plenty of little treats hidden in the town for small kids in terms of parks, playgrounds and playcafes. The town definitely justifies being the recepient of its frequent awards of a tidiest town both nationally and statewide; despite being a drought stricken town, most houses have well tended gardens and the roses in bloom are quite a sight for sore eyes.

When we first approached our neighbourhood, Anna and I were quite delighted to see our address in an upcoming part of the town with plenty of new and stylish looking houses in the area. But being at odds with Miss Luck always, we discovered that our house (being a rental) was the most unassuming one with a plain façade and quite an unkempt garden. However the inside of the house was quite clean and cosy, especially the highlights being the western sun streaming down the large windows of the living room – providing just the perfect setting for a delicious cup of hot chocolate and Mosteghanemi (an author I am re-reading lately) in the evenings. Anna is not overly delighted with the number of rooms in the house as he had to contend with me for the extra room – however we compromised :) Rightnow his study (in reality a dump yard most of the days, as anything we wish to hide or throw away automatically finds its way to this room) is turned into a mausoleum of Ikea’s shelves and furniture.

Just when we thought we were finished with the unpacking and had the house in order, we were surprised or rather stricken (in my case atleast) to discover unwanted guests in the house. In addition to overwhelming amount of tiny creepies and crawlies, we also discovered our house was infested with tiny four-legged creatures – the squeaking and scratching of mice keeps us up almost every night. Seeing the supermarket shelves, containing rat baits and traps, almost empty, we soon realised this is a common problem in Horsham – the nearby paddocks and open fields serve as breeding grounds for these little pests. The first few sights of dead mice gave me (and the kids) the screaming abdabs, however we are now seasoned dead mice spectators (hope Bala does not report me to the RSPCA)…..we now calmly wait for Anna aka exterminator to arrive home and bury the dead.

So yes, not everything is perfect, hiccups here and there……the town has both its plus and minus points….but I guess the people of this town are no doubt the bonus points. The residents are quite friendly and have the time and the right frame of mind to help you out, be it an address or advice; they go out of their way to be of assistance. One of the charms of living in a small town – even the cars here on the roads seem to be more relaxed, no honking, no impatient drivers trying to edify the ignorant on road…..er rude signs, and hey, I manage to get parking around schools !!!

Well for now, Mugil loves to go to daycare, Madhu has settled down in school, Anna is looking forward to some challenges at work and I have discovered some friendly neighbours and acquaintances……it is all good for a start……in rural Utopia :)

The new girl in town....

“The nice part about living in a small town is that when you don't know what you're doing, someone else does”

-Anon

It was almost twilight when we entered the town of Horsham, Victoria. We had been on the road for four long days but what made us more tired and almost at the end of our tether was the five gruelling hours of driving from south Victoria to Horsham. The dark melodies of Narina Pallot did nothing to lighten our moods; instead, the bottomless silence between us, serving as a heavy undernote to the sombre music, seemed to weigh heavily inside the car. To my surprise, I seemed to miss the noisy chatter and incessant demands of the kids…..guess right now I would have happily welcomed them as our much needed distraction. The kids were left behind at their cousins’ place while Anna and I had braved this trip to set up house and complete the formalities of moving into Horsham. So there we were, on our own, run out of steam and small talk, on the last leg of our long interstate journey….both deeply lost in thoughts and ruminating, each in our own private world wondering what Horsham had to offer us.

In our journey from Brisbane to Horsham, we had crossed tiny little towns, some containing only a few hundreds of people – towns that looked quite dead and deserted, the perfect little setting that Stephen King would have loved for his books. I could not digest the thought of living in a town that did not even boast a Mckers, so when I entered the town of Horsham and saw the billboard advertising KFC, it was like the sun had burst out of the clouds. Anna rolled his eyes when I started clapping my hands in gleeful delight – signs of fast food was like manna to me, especially after having spent the previous night in a town that boasted only a pasta/pizza place and that too had closed way before even the kids bedtime L I, for one, did not want to go to bed yet again on milk and cereals.

So it was with trepidation bordering almost on dread when we entered the streets of Horsham. We had only driven a few blocks down the road when the city centre dispelled any preconceived misconceptions of small towns pretty quickly. Of course the shops in the main streets were mostly closed but still the city (I believe I am allowed to call a township of 15000 by that name) breathed a healthy glow of life that made us heave big sighs of relief. After having lived in Brisbane for almost 12 years, a metro city boasting of a population of nearly two million, we had gotten used to the luxuries that city life offers and perhaps this reason could mainly contribute to our fears of coming to a small town like Horsham on account of Anna’s new job.

Pretty reassured by the first impressions (mainly familiar brands and stores) that we gleaned from the city centre, especially the highlights being the presence of Indian (we later learned that this one and only Indian restaurant in Horsham opened a mere three weeks ago, thank heavens for small mercies) and Thai restaurants, we looked for a motel to crash in for that night. Much to our surprise and discomfort we found that most of the motels were completely booked out for that week owing to a farmers’ convention in town. Luckily one of the handiest and loveliest things of being in a small town is that everybody knows everybody’s business – an attribute that used to both annoy and please an originally small town girl like me from Pondicherry. Anyway we were directed to the last motel that still had rooms to offer and we camped there for the night.

After a hearty Indian dinner of garlic naan and butter chicken and futile attempts at hooking onto the wireless, we try to catch a night of restful sleep. Tomorrow was going to be a busy day with moving into the rental house and the removalist making the delivery, but for now, that still seemed ages away. My first impressions of Horsham were not disappointing – I go to bed thinking that this beautiful and peaceful town, for now, has seemed to have satisfied the first tier of Maslow’s pyramid for me. Perhaps in due course, it might make an indelible impression on my road to recovery (after the most hectic and emotionally draining year overseas), perhaps even self-discovery on the journey of writing... time will say, but first and foremost the much needed reunion with my family.