Alouette was one of the first rhymes I sang for babyT. Even Twinkle Twinkle didn’t come as easily as Alouette did. I never understood why and maybe it is part of a bigger plan.
Alouette is a French rhyme for children where someone wants to pluck the feathers off a lark’s head (la tete,) beak (le bec,) neck (le cou,) tail (la queue) etc. Pretty inhumane but don’t call PETA just yet. It’s quite a handy rhyme to teach basic (human) anatomy. And today Alouette, Gentille Alouette is one of the most loved & most hummed rhymes sung at home.
Their eyes met. She smiled like she did every day, “Tea for me Ajay.”
Ajay handed her the cup of warm masala tea. More ginger, less sugar. Just the way she liked it. He knew how to get it just right. His heart fluttered as their hands touched, her slender fingers so warm on this cold winter morning. Continue reading
Shantu woke with a start. He had kicked her again. This time she screamed. “Stop this pain now,” she yelled at sister Mary. “Just a few more hours,” Mary said.
Shantu must have passed out because when she woke up she had an unbearable pain in her stomach and was back in her hospital bed. “Looks like it’s out” she mumbled.
Shalini walked into her room, handing over a blue envelope, “Here’s the balance payment. We had to do a c-section to get the baby out. You can go home tomorrow.”
Shantu took the envelope, “It was a boy wasn’t it?”
“Yes,” said Shalini “Your hunch was right as always.”
“Just simple probability actually – 2 girls and 2 boys. Nature knows its balance.” retorted Shantu as Shalini waved goodbye.
“Dr Prasad, I have the 50 lakhs now” Shantu spoke into her phone “When can we plan my mother’s kidney transplant?”
Word Count: 150
This piece is part of #FridayFotoFiction with Tina & Mayuri. Every Friday Tina & Mayuri share a photo prompt and we write a 150-word short story based on how we interpret the prompt. This week’s prompt was a crib (pictured above.)
Surrogacy is a Godsend for couples who can’t have children due to fertility or health issues. For the couple, receiving a child is a blessing indeed. But for the surrogate mother, surrogacy is much-needed income, most often to meet severe financial crises. It is not easy giving up a child you’ve harboured and nurtured for 9 months. But the good wishes & blessings that you receive in return go a long way in valuing the efforts the surrogate mother puts in.
For today’s final post for the #AtoZBloggingChallenge Z is for Zeba our nanny.
Let me introduce you to Zeba. She is a 20 something woman, who manages her own home and mine. She is the reason I am here everyday, with some amount of sanity and energy left in me to blog and to allow me to pee/ poop/ bathe/ have one cup of coffee in peace. Zeba is our nanny. She minds babyT in the day time. To me she is a big savior who has allowed me to bring in some degree of normalcy to my life. Continue reading
Today’s maybe a slightly sensational topic. But I would urge you to read my entire blog post before you make a judgement about the word for today’s #AtoZbloggingChallenge – #Yisfor the #Ychromosome
For the longest time in, our culture predominantly, it was believed that a woman was the determinant of the sex of the child I.e. a male or female child. So if it was a female child that was born, it was totally the mother’s fault. Her body and uterus messed up.
What does science say
Science and basic genetics then taught us that it wasn’t actually the mother’s DNA but that of the father which determined whether the child would be male or female. So the mother’s egg carried two X chromosomes. And the father’s sperm cells carried an X and a Y chromosome. When one chromosome from the mother met another from the father a child was born. And if X met X then it would be a female child and if X and Y met it would be a male child. So it was the Y chromosome who was the hero/ culprit then.
My life is a last minute affair. The entire #AtoZBloggingChallenge has been a last minute affair. I try and look for a word over days and hours and finally around 10 pm a flash of brilliance goes off in my brain (well according to me anyway.) and I have a word which I love and feel so excited to write about. Today’s word is such…
After poring over geeky lists of words beginning with X and getting some scary ideas for blog posts (Xeniatrophobia – the hatred for foreign Doctors. Innocent Dr (Mrs.) Singh from my childhood in the UK was going to get a mention.) I had almost relented my fate and went to clear up babyT’s play room for the night, when my eyes fell upon this Xylophone. (Fanfare went off in my head, really, you had to be me to know it.)
Every house that has a new baby has a Xylophone or two. And of course babies are meant to hit, whack, throw and poke the crap out of it.. they of course cannot play it, unless they are the late Mr. Brahms incarnate. Does your Xylophone really get the due that it is born to do?