Ode to Oscy

It's been a week since Oscy passed on
And not a day has gone by
Without me thinking about something he'd done
Many a time, on the sly

Paper, plastic, rubber bands
Anything was he game for
Slinking away, silently chewing
Even a dirty diaper
He must've loved the letter C
For his favourites began with it
Cucumber, coconut, chapati and cheese
He gobbled up every bit

Whenever I went into the kitchen
Or opened the fridge door
He would instantly be there looking up at me
Or sniffing at the floor
Just in case I'd dropped something
He wasn't always particular
But if it were Parle G
He thought it was spectacular

I make it sound like he only ate
And didn't do much else
But no, he was a most active chap
Evinced by his tiny bell
Which rang every time he walked
Or sprinted around the house
True that he hadn't been wearing it for some time
But sneaked about like a mouse

Every morning when I came down
He'd be waiting there for me
To nip my ankles, ask for a treat
And stare expectantly
But what I loved even more
Was how he played when I tried to leash him up

Before I took him out for a walk

Ah, he ran around like a little pup

He wasn't wise or grumpy
But simply goofy and so sweet
He was little, yet large
With a presence that's hard to beat
Many parts of the house
Remind me of him
Especially his kitchen corner
With the light above so dim

I miss seeing him curled up
In the laundry pile
Or in his bed under the stairs
As if he'd walked a mile
From his little bowl
He drank so much water
And if that wasn't enough for him
He'd drink from a brass planter

From under the glass dining table

He always stared up

His melty eyes ensured

That our dues were paid up

With everyone at home

He had a special bond

We all miss him in our own ways

Many memories we'll hold, forever fond

It's Oscy's birthday today

A teenager he would've become

I'm sure he's celebrating somewhere

Our little rascal, and then some

Equal parenting equals a change in attitudes

In response to a post on The Ladies Finger

As a mother to two children who are well on their way to the eye-rolling tweens, a change in attitudes is what I wish for the most since my time to wish for a partner who would share with more parenting (at least the physical, rigorous demands) is out the window. Life experiences have made me understand how social conditioning leads many mums to believe that we are the primary caregivers for various reasons, physiological and cultural. We praise a father's active involvement when we needn't, we applaud a successful diaper change when we shouldn't, we speak of them proudly to our friends hoping to show up those whose partners aren't 'as involved'. And we are afraid to let go because what then, is our value?

Indian dads need to parent. That does not mean only being present on sports days and annual days or making clichéd statements at work, “I'll call you back, have to get the kids in bed”, and dropping an iPad onto the child's bed. Or taking selfies! I can list out a 100 things that a dad should do but the most important one can't be put on a list because it's innate. It's a feeling, a want, to be a parent. And a willingness to learn what that means as it's NOT a constant. Mums don't have parenting classes before the kids come along!

As India contemplates a six-month maternity leave instead of three, maybe we, as a society, should also contemplate how to change our own attitudes towards parenting. Both men and women.

'The' moment

It seemed to her like it was only yesterday when she was chasing after them to keep their routine irrespective of what day of the week it was. A change in bed time or meal times had repercussions for the next day. How would they handle that? How would she handle that?

Fast forward to today and there they were...all plonked on the bed in front of the TV at almost midnight watching Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban eating corn puffs and chips! When did they change so much? When did she change so much?

Many moments came to mind but nothing struck her more than that one moment - when he came into their lives and they became family. Related or not, family they had become and nothing could change that. Each one counting on the other for different things but all, knowing and secure, that they were together. That moment was the change. That was when she (and they) had let go.

Oh was this the beginning of the wonder(ful) years?