Post # 24 - The Twins start school

The twins have started school this month and at times I feel I’m the one going to school with them. Not that I was a late riser before the twins were born and since having them, early mornings have become a norm but getting to school on time is a whole different pressure. Especially with toddlers who have no concept of time and are indifferent to the fact that instead of playing with their toys or going through their books, they need to get ready for school. 

I was a bit scared about school. I wasn’t sure how I felt about sending the twins away for a couple of hours and leaving them in a new place with well, strangers. A few days after school started I began worrying about their safety and once you start thinking about these matters, the mind leaps from one crazy scenario to another. I had almost convinced myself one night, at the ungodly hour of 2am, that I’ll home school them - society be damned. Thankfully, better sense prevailed!

As the days of the settling down period went by, both Adnan and I started stepping out of the classroom for longer durations and leaving the twins with their teachers. There were a few instances of crying but overall, both of them adjusted fine. And now, after almost two weeks, we are leaving them in school for two hours. Leaving them. Which means handing them over to their teacher and going home. 

And it was okay. I didn’t feel any anxiety or fear and no doubt creeped into my mind as I walked away from the classroom and out of the school gates. I felt happy and light. Happy that my kids had settled in their school with minimum fuss and no meltdowns. When I came back home the first time after leaving them I didn’t really miss them but yes, it did seem a bit odd to be without them. Sometimes I do wonder where all the time has gone. It seems only yesterday that they had started crawling. Now they are running and climbing and doing all sorts of things. It’s a pleasure to see them grow everyday but they’re growing up way too fast for my liking. 

Post # 23 - birthday wishes

I was into fantasy fiction and role-playing from a young age. Probably because I read the abridged version of Tilism-e-Hoshruba when I was around nine. My imagination was also a wild one and often playing alone in the garden at my grandmother’s house in Karachi I’d enact fantasy stories of my own. One of them which I distinctly remember was of me as the queen of the snakes with a deadly cobra (invisible to the world) by my side who was my protector and wazir. My favourite pastime during long hot afternoons was to sit in a secluded spot in the house and solve all world problems with my retinue of snakes. 

I never shared this with my cousins because girls of my age were more into fairies and less into snakes. Whenever we played a game that involved fairies I was the evil one who was defeated and either shunned or forgiven if I turned over a new leaf. At the end of every fairy game one of my cousins used to make a wish. Right smack when the maghreb azaan started, she would close her eyes and bring her hands together and whisper something. For a few days I let her be but then my curiosity got the better of me. Turned out she was making a wish to become a fairy because she believed that wishes made at maghreb always came true (try telling this to a nine year old now). 

I can still recall the scene as if it happened yesterday. She made me wish too but little did she know that I didn’t wish to become a fairy. I wanted to be the Queen of Snakes, the master controller, the woman everyone feared and revered. Alas, no deadly cobra came to my bedside swearing allegiance the following night.

When this memory floated into my mind in the morning today, I thought how the media (books, movies and now the internet) construe our image of a being. Not all fairies are sweet little creatures and not all snakes are evil. In our folklore djinn often assume the shape of snakes and come to warn humans of a catastrophe. There is one thing though, a good fairy is a good fairy and a python is a killer snake, unless it’s a djinn. Can we say the same things about us humans? 

Sometimes I wonder who I am? More importantly, who do I wish to be? Do I still want to be the saviour of mankind with my snake army? What about the other avatars I’m trying on - the writer, the yogi, the makeup artist? Do I choose or wish for one or can I be all three? 

Even though maghreb time has long gone by as I type this paragraph, I still want to make a wish on the eve of my birthday. I wish to be everything I ever wanted to be and more importantly, I wish for patience and perseverance to see my wishes come through in the coming year. Happy birthday to me I guess! 

Post # 22 - giving up, starting over

The struggle is real. 

This year I had decided to make some changes. You’ve heard this before but I’m going to put it out there AGAIN. I’ve taken some steps towards change but I still feel that I need to do more. One of the things I’ve done, which I never did before..like ever, is to read some good self-help books. The one I’m reading currently is Brene’ Brown’s Rising Strong and if you’re wondering why I’m taking SO long to read it (since I mentioned it here on the blog way back in March) - it’s because I’m afraid. At the end of each chapter there is a bit of a summary which not only helps to outline the chapter but also makes one think of how it all applies to their life. When I finished the first few chapters, I sat down and went through the ‘Owning the Story’ exercise. And let me tell you, it wasn’t easy. Walking into my story, accepting all the good, bad and the ugly with honesty, wholeheartedness and a desire to change required courage. 

So, has the change started? 

The one thing I’ve come to realise is how much we overuse the word, change. It isn’t easy to bring about change when you’re living a regular lifestyle. If you have a set routine and you want to bring about ‘changes’, it requires much more work and motivation than say a major change like moving houses, or starting a new job/school, or starting over after losing a loved one. In these instances people around you are willing to give you space to settle into the change. But bringing about simple changes in your routine in a house which is functioning in a certain way is a task even Hercules would have found daunting! 

Does that mean I can never bring about the change I want?

No. It just means a) I have to work harder to implement the change and b) once I can bring about the change and it produces certain desired results, others will also respect the change and be willing to accommodate. 

Simple, right? 

Not exactly. There is nothing simple when it comes to bringing about change. It needs effort and guts and willpower and a whole lot of gritting teeth and losing sleep. It also requires a lot of self-love and kindness because there are no instant results and at each step of this journey I need to be aware and accepting of my story. The past one, the present one and the future one I hope to create.

 

Rising Strong - Brené Brown

Image: Google 

Post # 21 - The point of it all

Seriously, what’s the point of it all?

I ask myself this question now and then. It’s a question which indicates that I’m going through an existential crisis. Which is something a lot of us go through several times in our lifespan (if anyone tells you otherwise they’re either lying or they don’t know that what they’re going through or went through is known as an existential crisis). 

I’ve been re-reading one of my favourite novels by Nick Hornby - Juliet, Naked. The last time I read it was in 2010 and I wasn’t going through any major soul-searching dilemmas at that time so I had forgotten that this novel screamed existential crisis at almost every other page. 

Don’t get me wrong. It’s a great book, probably one of his best novels. I loved re-reading it but what I had missed the first time was a) that this was a coming of age story but of adults which kind of translates as mid-life crisis and b) the protagonist, a woman, was roughly the same age as I am now when she started questioning where the last fifteen years of her life went. Her questioning brought to the surface some tough questions of my own life and doings which eventually culminated into this one observation/question:

What’s the point of it all?

I’m at a strange place in my life. I want to write but am afraid of it. Not of the hard work involved but of exposing my vulnerabilities. It takes a lot of courage to lay yourself bare which is something I realised and took inspiration from when I read the book, It’s Not About the Burqa. This collection of essays from female British Muslim authors was very inspiring. Some of the stories were so, so personal and painful yet the authors penned them down and shared them with the world. Is writing a blog everyday also something like that? No, not really. Especially when everyday you check your site and realise, with a sinking heart, that nobody is interested in your writing. Which brings us back to the original question.

Seriously, what’s the point of it all?

I know this sounds a bit like a very sad cry for help but it isn’t that at all. Okay, maybe just a bit. And in case you feel like sending me a nice email or leaving a sweet comment, please feel free to do it. Now is a good time. NOW is a very good time. 

[This is post no. 3 of my #dailyJuly series on the beanbag].

Post # 20 - Observation is a superpower..almost!

So much of who we are is, besides genes and upbringing, based on observation. A lot of times I’ve found myself doing a certain thing in a certain way because my mother or grandmother did it that way. And I’m not just talking about cooking. Actually that is the one thing I can’t talk at all about with any authority. Unfortunately. Although I’ve observed both my grandmothers (maternal and paternal) cook but somehow, I was never really interested in it. Now, though, I wish they had forced me to learn cooking. It’s one skill everyone must have. With the internet cooking, like everything else, has become so much easier and simpler. But learning from your grandmothers or mother or mother-in-law makes you feel part of a special group…sort of like a secret society. One Youtube video doesn’t make you a chef. It takes a lifetime to develop your own ‘haath ka maza’.

Personality can be greatly shaped by observation and though I haven’t studied psychology, I think observation is not given as much importance as genetics or ego or other forces inside our mind. My own actions, especially after my marriage, reflected a lot that I had observed my mother and grandmother doing and/or not doing. I feel that the power behind shaping your personality using observation is learning what not to do more than what to do. 

It’s funny how things come full circle. My daughter has great observation skills and I’ve often seen her copy certain actions. Usually she copies her twin brother when it comes to physical activities but she also copies her father and me. Tonight, while I was getting her twin brother ready for bed, she put her sneaker on the sofa and tried to tie the laces. She obviously couldn’t tie them but her motions were spot on. And nobody has tried to teach her yet. It was both cute and scary for me to see her do that. Okay, in all honesty? It was mostly scary. This little girl of mine is going to give her mama a real tough time. 

[ This post is the second one in my #dailyJuly series on the beanbag.] 

Post # 19 - Let's have some cake!

July is a hard core birthday month on the beanbag. It starts with a birthday and ends with several birthdays. There are birthdays in the middle including that of my twins. It’s a month sprinkled with many days of guilt-free cake eating. And who doesn’t like to eat cake? Marie Antoinette did and I do too. 

Probably not the most flattering pics of the cake

Speaking of cakes, I have to decide on a good one for my twins birthday. The first birthday cake was all looks and not much taste. I’m not saying it was a bad cake but it wasn’t lip-smacking, I’m-ready-to-die, GIVE ME MORE kind of a cake. As far as looks were concerned, the cakes could give solid competition to Deepika Padukone. Although they resembled her husband’s get-ups a lot more. 

Since the twins don’t have a say YET in the matter of their birthday cake, their mother gets to choose one. I’m oscillating between Reema’s absolutely divine gooey chocolate cake and my new find, @saddyscakeworks. I might just keep Reema’s cake for my birthday but the kind of track record I’ve had as far as my birthday cakes go is pathetic. Once, I kid you not, I cut a carrot cake on my birthday. You can close your mouth now. I know it’s shocking but no need to add more wrinkles to your face just because of me. 

Like all things first, this first post is a bit jittery. All firsts are kind of scary, aren’t they? I went to my first yoga class today after, what…four years I think? It wasn’t scary but I was a bit apprehensive about how it’ll go. I'll write about my yoga journey soon. In the meantime, I leave you with this great cake song by Ethel Merman, If I knew you were coming I’d have Baked a Cake. It's a fun, foot-tapping number. I promise you'll love it and it might take your mind off cake too. 

Note: I wrote this post before midnight on the 1st so it technically still counts as post#1 in the dailyJuly project. 

Post # 18 - Announcement

After a lot of thought and copious amounts of self-doubt, I've decided to undertake a self-created challenge. I'm going to post on the beanbag blog and the beanbag Instagram account every single day.

*deep breath*

Yes, a DAILY post. This isn't going to be easy but it's going to be a lot of fun as I will have to push myself to think out of the box and create something new everyday. Join me, next month, as I try to make good content every day of the week. Keep a lookout for #dailyJuly. 

My writer avatar this month!