tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20325765381339717672026-03-27T14:03:13.856+05:30HypermomThe story started as our version of Fairytopia. With me, the mad witch, trying all kinds of spells and stunts to grapple with my two sweet little bickering fairies. <br>
The fairies are on their own wings now, but the fairy tales continue.
So does the magic and the madness!.<br><br>
I'd love to hear from those of you who've had a glimpse into our world. Thanks for being a part of it.Hypermomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05726821056092299410noreply@blogger.comBlogger217125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2032576538133971767.post-8808075431765325582021-01-17T19:08:00.003+05:302021-01-17T19:08:45.723+05:30Specks of dust Where do people go,
after they go forever?
To the heavens above
to meet the ones gone before?
Or do they turn into dust,
a part of the universe,
to stay only in memories,
in dreams and stories,
until those who remember
also come to pass?
It seems so much in vain,
to live and just disappear,
like the countless before
and all those here.
Yet that is the only story,
Hypermomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05726821056092299410noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2032576538133971767.post-893747752768302312020-10-02T00:49:00.000+05:302020-10-02T00:49:35.407+05:30Week 29 I think I skipped a couple of weeks as the weekly blog
update moved from the end of the week, to the start of next week, to the end of
the next week.
No, I counted again and somehow the numbering is correct. A
small detail in a world where infection numbers have gone beyond counting. The official
number of people who have died because of the virus has crossed a million. The
unofficial Hypermomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05726821056092299410noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2032576538133971767.post-91647935622822879292020-09-23T22:39:00.000+05:302020-09-23T22:39:24.916+05:30Week 28The official count is 55L infections. We had been so
terrified when we were about to touch 500! The country was in lockdown and all
those who could, stayed at home.
We took on as a challenge. Asked the maids to stay away. We told
ourselves we could do this for our safety, for our family, for the nation. We
cooked like never before and competed on social media to prove it. Those who
couldn't, Hypermomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05726821056092299410noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2032576538133971767.post-77772317170224404232020-09-16T19:25:00.003+05:302020-09-16T23:56:46.171+05:30Week 27I didn't write the weekly update on the weekend as I was coping with physical and mental exhaustion. Stress playing havoc with my cycles or perhaps it was the other way round.I had to speak to a doctor.Do you have extreme mood swings, get irritated over small things? The doctor asked.Was she mad?I have been cooking 3 meals a day for 4 people, every day, for the last 6 months. That with an ever Hypermomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05726821056092299410noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2032576538133971767.post-80079693248531358462020-09-09T01:27:00.001+05:302020-09-09T01:27:00.521+05:30Into that heaven of normalcyI wrote this in response to a 100 word Parody challenge on Momspresso, but it's actually a heartfelt prayer.Where the mind is without fear,
of a virus lurking around,
Where breath is free
and masks no longer abound;
Where we can travel and greet,
friends and strangers without fear;
Where we no longer reason over
how to sanitize the sanitizer;
Where we get breaks from dreary routineHypermomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05726821056092299410noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2032576538133971767.post-75074049096480815062020-09-08T02:19:00.000+05:302020-09-08T02:19:08.164+05:30Week 26 Yes, another week to be thankful for.
Another week when ripples came closer, but we were safe and
sound.We had other challenges-cabin fever from the sense of being
in house arrest, grumbles, and sulks. And we pulled along too. We were all so
busy through the week and so tired at the end of it, that some of the quibbles
got sorted out because didn’t have the energy or time to fight them outHypermomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05726821056092299410noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2032576538133971767.post-21860654994230770352020-09-02T20:00:00.001+05:302020-09-02T20:00:01.538+05:30What I Wished ForI was one of the early proponents of flexible working hours/working from home, a decade and a half before 2020 coerced the whole world into accepting the norm-ready or not.This was what I had been arguing for over the years. We shouldn’t be wasting so many hours commuting through the dreadful traffic. We could save so much of our productive time, energy and money. The environment could be saved Hypermomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05726821056092299410noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2032576538133971767.post-87587355217195177092020-09-01T03:33:00.003+05:302020-09-01T03:36:21.529+05:30Week 25: InVerse This week too was like the ones before.The caseload increased even more.With no controls in place and no cure;there are no facts to reassure.People are braver than ever before,Since for safety they cannot be sure;they have decided to just ignore,the danger till it abates on it’s own.They are hungry, tired or plain bored.They’ve gone back to lives as beforeThe governments can’t control Hypermomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05726821056092299410noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2032576538133971767.post-90254978036302614702020-08-25T20:00:00.021+05:302020-08-25T20:00:01.195+05:30We Are The World A nostalgia video was doing rounds on WhatsApp showing the snippets of the original album, along with current images of the singers.My daughters peeped in.Oh, I know Michael Jackson!Hmmm, I’ve heard this name too.Oh! So this what Bruce Springsteen looked like!And then the questions:Wait, what are they singing about? Is this about 9-11? 1980s…. was there a pandemic then also?They Hypermomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05726821056092299410noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2032576538133971767.post-7030260175909819872020-08-24T02:06:00.001+05:302020-08-24T02:06:32.113+05:30Week 24 I almost didn’t write this post.
What is the point? Of recording yet another week of just the
same. Logged in each morning for office, logged out by evening and headed to
the kitchen, and then did the grocery and cleaning and yet more cooking on the
weekend.
This is not what one writes about. We write about adventures
and highs and sometimes about the lows. We write about change, about Hypermomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05726821056092299410noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2032576538133971767.post-68739345227767103542020-08-21T19:00:00.003+05:302020-09-01T03:34:27.635+05:30 Across the Bridge: InVerseI long so much to go, across that bridge.
I can’t see much, because of the mist,
But I know it has to be better than this.
A world of peace, love and bliss.
Freedom from the struggle here,
full of hatred, stress and fear.
The sun dips low into the gloom
I leave as darkness begins to loom,
A new day begins on that shore.
I start walking, with new hope.
Dawn breaks and the mist drifts Hypermomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05726821056092299410noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2032576538133971767.post-38606286787699821892020-08-20T20:14:00.002+05:302020-09-01T03:35:24.191+05:30Crocheting Words: InVerse Early this month, I had to send a dozen Rakhis. Usually this is a mini shopping-expedition for me. But this time I didn't want to step out.Thanks to YouTube and lots of left over yarn I managed to crochet some decent Rakhis in tiny pockets of time.
That made me attempt the same thing with words-writing in the small pockets of time I can sneak out with just a hundred words to go. Hypermomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05726821056092299410noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2032576538133971767.post-13863539440692055232020-08-17T02:45:00.000+05:302020-08-17T02:46:06.426+05:30Week 23I remember the childhood experience of watching a flood in Kolkata.
The street had become a river. A man with a boat would come with essential supplies.
My grandmother would negotiate from the balcony, a bag tied to a rope would go
down with the requisite cash and come up with the bread, eggs and other miscellaneous
stuff. It was pretty exciting for us.
We were safe on the first floor but the Hypermomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05726821056092299410noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2032576538133971767.post-89376378589170080162020-08-10T03:11:00.000+05:302020-08-10T03:12:04.645+05:30Week 22 It’s been 21 weeks since we stopped going out to work and
the girls came back from school and college. I counted today to track the time
as another week got over and yet another began.
When it all started we though we’ll be back in a few weeks,
a month or maybe two. Now we have no clue.
The statistics continue to grow. The government has
exhausted it’s resource, the people have lost theirHypermomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05726821056092299410noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2032576538133971767.post-69579776230385404032020-08-05T02:07:00.002+05:302020-08-10T03:18:44.031+05:30Mother Grinch“All the flats have maids coming in.” My husband keeps
reminding me whenever I moan and groan about the extra housework. It’s for my
sake as much as his own that he wants the cooking and cleaning tasks restored
back to the paid house-help.
“Let’s decide by next month.” I put off the discussion. The
one month became four and more, but the statistics underlying our decision only
get worse and we Hypermomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05726821056092299410noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2032576538133971767.post-41217424895319554392020-08-03T00:00:00.026+05:302020-08-03T00:08:56.439+05:30A Changed WorldMy daughter and I went out for a drive today.
Actually we took a cycle to a repair shop. A routine task
that seemed so much like an adventure. That is what four and half months of
living in a tower does to you.
Driving in Bangalore traffic has been my favourite crib for
years. I drove a car after four and half months today.
The change was spooking me out!
The car felt strange and wobbly. NoHypermomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05726821056092299410noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2032576538133971767.post-41315181587702273162020-08-02T00:01:00.014+05:302020-08-02T00:11:16.742+05:30The Old NormalWhen it will be the old-normal again?
But what really was that?
A world where I was free to meet and hug my friends,
But how often did I do that?
A world I could go wherever I wanted to.
Just when was the last time I did that?
A time I wasn’t so scared of loved ones falling sick or dying.
But wasn’t that always a possibility?
Oh yes, I had a house-help and a cook.
That definitely feels Hypermomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05726821056092299410noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2032576538133971767.post-89746379571924269352020-07-20T02:17:00.003+05:302020-07-20T02:19:25.761+05:30Just where is the silver lining?Since I like reading data from random and not-so random
sources, my husband often asks me for a summary of what’s happening. Especially
with the coronavirus situation.
Nothing seems to be improving. The cases rises everyday, and
there seems to be no respite possible for months ahead.
That must be because we are testing more everyday, he tries
to be optimistic.
But in terms of test per Hypermomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05726821056092299410noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2032576538133971767.post-16588806319768684332020-07-19T02:15:00.000+05:302020-07-19T02:15:28.310+05:30PerspectiveYes, I know we are lucky we can decide to stay locked in and
indulge in Netflix and trying out YouTube recipes and play games while waiting
for the world to return to normal.
We have a lot of blessing to count.
Yet, is it just me, or others too who feel like the pressure
of too much forced optimism.
Not discounting my blessing but I do miss a lot of perks of ‘normal’
life.
My maid and cook toHypermomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05726821056092299410noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2032576538133971767.post-72810469587966549882020-07-15T02:47:00.001+05:302020-07-15T02:48:48.605+05:30Locked Down ConversationsOur life is reflected in our conversations. And the most
happen on social media. Especially when you are facing a crisis like no other.
Conversations on the apartment WhatsApp groups which are
always a mix of everything from spirituality to politics to outcries over dog poop
spotted near the garden, coalesced around the ‘new virus’ in the early days.
Shared concerns consolidated over the Hypermomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05726821056092299410noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2032576538133971767.post-17818646180808952522020-07-12T22:51:00.001+05:302020-07-12T22:52:17.997+05:30And the world was changingIt seemed like I had stepped into a boot camp for soldiers
about to set off for war. The stage was set with military precision for the
adventurers just back from their travels across rural Maharashtra in public
buses and trains.
The kids who came back in just 10 days, landed in a
different world surrounded by masks men and women.
Expecting to run off to their ‘houses’ and exchange stories
of Hypermomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05726821056092299410noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2032576538133971767.post-16277827893038220172020-07-09T00:52:00.001+05:302020-07-09T00:52:52.509+05:30The Early WindsEarly Vacations
Think of any time before 2020. How would these words sound?
It was early March.
The country had a handful of declared cases. There had been
no covid related deaths. It was still a disease which had infected a few on
their trips abroad. If they were quarantined and treated, the whole scare would
go away in weeks. (oops, do I sound like Trump?). Well, that’s what most people
Hypermomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05726821056092299410noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2032576538133971767.post-90179234130442493492020-07-07T20:00:00.003+05:302020-07-07T20:35:15.599+05:30My Dida's GranddaughterI loved my grandmother. Like most people do.But a lot of things she did made no sense to me. She was paranoid about ‘eto’ a word in Bangla for which I could not find the English equivalent. The main concept was that some food items were considered untouchable. Cooked rice, non-vegetarian food being top of the list. You could eat them with relish, but if you happened to touch them you had wash Hypermomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05726821056092299410noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2032576538133971767.post-55453217513125783962020-07-06T21:31:00.007+05:302020-07-06T21:34:47.031+05:30Then and Now The peak is peaking every day.
The last one month has been a month of ‘highest growth’ so
far. Wishing there comes a day when we are not talking of infection numbers but
the economy, education, or sports this way.
What started with looking on Worldometers like the display
board of Olympics with China at the top and then started looking like the
Football World Cup tally, now has the U.S, Hypermomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05726821056092299410noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2032576538133971767.post-57706026816790265462020-07-06T02:48:00.002+05:302020-07-06T02:51:31.072+05:30The Calm before...Late February
It was vacation planning time for us. We matched calendars
to plan the best possible time and then ideated on the destination.
My only requirement was a place where I could just plonk
myself in one place and just spend time with family. No hiking, surfing and
definitely no cooking and cleaning. The elder one wanted to go to a beach. My
husband voted for Cambodia. The younger one Hypermomhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05726821056092299410noreply@blogger.com0