My Little Girl

Gotta hold on easy as I let you go.
Gonna tell you how much I love you,
though you think you already know.
I remember I thought you looked like an angel wrapped in pink so soft and warm.
You've had me wrapped around your finger since the day you were born.

You’re a beautiful baby from the outside in.
Chase your dreams but always know the road that'll lead you home again.
Go on, take on this whole world.
But to me you know you'll always be, my little girl.

When you were in trouble that crooked little smile could melt my heart of stone.
Now look at you, I've turned around and you've almost grown.
Sometimes you're asleep I whisper "I Love You!" in the moonlight at your door.
As I walk away, I hear you say, "Daddy Love You More!".

Someday, some boy will come and ask me for your hand.
But I won't say "yes" to him unless I know, he's the half
that makes you whole, he has a poet's soul, and the heart of a man's man.
I know he'll say that he's in love.
But between you and me. He won't be good enough!

A Prayer for my daughter

These lines and verses are from A PRAYER FOR MY DAUGHTER by W.B.Yeats

1^st verse last two lines
And for an hour I have walked and prayed
Because of the great gloom that is in my mind

2. I have walked and prayed for this child an hour
…5^th line 2^nd Verse
Imagining in excited reverie
That the future years had come
Dancing to the frenzied drum,
Out of the murderous innocence of the sea.
3^rd Verse
May she be granted beauty and yet not
Beauty to make a stranger’s eyes distraught,
Or hers before a looking glass, for such,
Being made beautiful overmuch,
Consider beauty a sufficient end,
Lose natural kindness and maybe
The heart-revealing intimacy
That chooses right, and never find a friend
6^th Verse
May she become a flourishing hidden tree
That all her thoughts may like the linnet be,
And have no business but the dispensing round
Their magnanimities of sound,
Nor but in merriment begin a chase,
Nor but in merriment a quarrel,
O may she live like some green laurel
Rooted in one dear perpetual place.
7^th verse 6^th line
If there’s no hatred in a mind
Assault and battery of the wind
Can never tear the linnet from the leaf.
8^th Verse
An Intellectual hatred is the worst,
So let her think opinions are accursed,
Have I not seen the loveliest woman born
Out of the mouth of Plenty’s horn,
Because of her opinionated mind
Barter that horn and every good
By quite natures understood
For an old bellows full of the angry wind?
9^th Verse

Considering that, all hatred driven hence,
The soul recovers radical innocence
And learns at last that is self-delighting,
Self appeasing, self-affrighting,
And that its own sweet will is Heaven’s will;
She can, though every face should scowl
And every windy quarter howl
Or every bellows burst, be happy still
10^th Verse
And may her bridegroom bring her to a home
Where all’s accustomed, ceremonious;
For arrogance and hatred are the wares
Peddled in the thoroughfares.
How but in custom and in ceremony are innocence and beauty born?
Ceremony’s is a name for the rich horn,
And custom for the spreading laurel tree.
June 1919

Nice Girls

“Young girls I regret to say are seldom nice these days. When I was young, most of them were quite nice; it is to say, they shared their mothers opinions, not only about topics, but what is more remarkable, about individuals, even young men. They said ‘yes Mamma’ and ‘no Mamma’ at the appropriate moments; they loved their father because it was their duty so to do, and their mothers because she preserved them from the slightest hint of wrong doing.

When they become engaged they fell in love with decorous moderation; being married, they recognize it is their duty to love their husband, but gave other women to understand that it was a duty they performed with great difficulty. They behave nicely to their parents-in-law, while they making it clear that any dutiful person would not have done so; they do not speak spitefully of other women, but pursed their lips in such a way as to let it be seen what they might have said but for their angelic charitableness. This type is what is called a pure and noble woman. The type alas now hardly exist except among the old”

Your Mother and I

There will be a time when you read this and wonder why I wrote this. It’s just a story I want you to know…

I met your mother through a mutual friend six years before your birth, she was in Pune, studying and I was in Chandigarh for the same purpose. We didn’t know each other very well personally, but by exchanging e-mails and through chatting we became quite a friend. She’d send me gifts, such as collection of classical music (Beethoven, Mozart, and Handel etc.) or just edibles. I once had a chance to meet her in Pune but my plans were cancelled and I did not tell her about the cancellation, and she waited on me there at Pune Station. I was unwell and had to go home, when I got to know this I felt very awkward but she was alright with it.

I met her again after two years; she was also home and working in a school where your cousin SinSin attends. It was funny how I was when I met your mother again, I was going through a hard time, a crisis of sorts, but she helped me see through tough times. I used to drop and pick your cousin up from the school where she works, so I get to see her everyday. She’d be all smiles and Yakity yaks, she was totally into silly, dry, corny jokes that makes me laugh, she’d come over to my place and I’d go over to hers, sometimes I’d stay there till late and how I used to be, we still laugh about it.

Time went by and my troubles were fading fast and I began to have a thing for her, though I held back myself, one day I took a chance and sealed my feeling with a kiss, I was ready for a rebound, a slap or a punch in the face, but your mother was all chocolates and Ice creams for me tooJ. Let me put this in her own words, “ I used to wonder when I fell in love with you, I couldn’t pin it down to the day, the hour or the moment, I have learned since then that, I never fell in love with you…We met, we talked, we shared and we grew in love…”

Your mother was a goofball, when we started dating, I’d look into her eyes and say some endearments and she’d burst into a guffaw that unnerves me and I’d say to myself there she goes again. But she grew up and I miss that a lot in her.

When we were together we’d talk a lot about different things, about our lives but mostly she’d do the talking and I’d listen. I was the centre of her universeJ she’d forget everything and sits besides me, we’d listen to “My love my valentine” her favorite song or to some classical music, she’d try to make me listen to Hip-Hop with I abhor totally, instead of telling her that I’d cringe and listen wondering if it was a song or a some depressing recital. In the evening she’d realize she had forgotten to cook dinner when your grandmother came home from work. I was often invited for dinner, sometimes I’d cook, that’s how she found out I’m a better cook than her.

I have a ride that’s over twenty years old and it often died on me on the driveway at her place, sometimes she’d wake your uncles up and they’d push start my ride and I’d be on my way home. Whenever this happened she would never let me deal with it alone no matter how late, she’d fetch a light and be there helping me when that crap needs a fix. Word of advice: Never date a guy with a crap ride… I won’t let you anyways, the guy would too embarrassed!!! It’s not pretty when I had to kiss your mom goodnight smelling of grease and gas.

Your ‘Ama’ is a cry baby, she looks tough on the outside but she is soft as a virgin cotton ball inside. Sometimes I often wonder what makes her cry, she’d cry when she watch Hindi movies, or soaps. She is very jealous too, and a nasty one at that, I will give you one example, when she calls me, if I don’t pick up or if I had switched it off or even if I’d answer her and she hears female voice in the background, baby, you don’t want to know what I had to do to pacify her. We have our fallouts but it was never that bad, we’d talk it out and we’d be alright. You see your mom loves me so much she even fought for me, I had to referee in an all women Saturday night fight, there was no winner of course, I still have a good laugh when I think about it… So if you want to make your mother Mad, Plan Ahead!

I love her for lots of reasons, but one thing I really love about her is that she’d never forget to give me gifts on my birth day, even if she could not afford it. When I am sick she’d bring me something that would make me feel better (she'd bring me eggs or even medicines,something to read etc), I get sick a lot of times. Try to be like her in that way, people will never forget your intent behind the deed. As for me I am pretty lousy, I even forget your mom’s birth day, but she knows me even if she feels bad she’d hide it and I’d be there three days late or something like that.

I used to behave in a way she really hates, but instead of going all out on me, she’d pray, she’d forgive my ways no matter how I had hurt her, she’d always be behind me when someone tell her that I am not right for her. She is like that even for her friends; she’d never want to hear anything bad about the ones she cares about.

There was a time when we’d talk for hours on the phone, and even after we hang up we’d still short message each other, I don’t recall us talking about anything of significance but the feeling was indescribable. I read a joke some where about a girl who went to see her dentist with her dad, she was curious about how the dentist would keep her mouth open, the father replied, “They’d give you a phone”. I always remember your mom when this joke crosses my mind. I hope you don’t turn out like that, even though your mom already bought you a toy cell phoneJ.

One difference your mother and I have is on reading, she seldom reads, even the daily paper, where as I read anything I can lay my hands onto. I like reading in bed, with your mother it’s like me bringing another lady along to the bed. When I cannot read before I sleep I’d still think about it, she can’t stop me from that isn’t it?

You see dear reading expands the horizon of your mind, it widens your perspective, the way you look at life, you can paint pictures with words, have endless adventures, meet the fairies, the powerful Kings and Queens, handsome Princes and beautiful Princesses, and you could even fight with the demons and chase them away, and you can even save the world you live in.

There is nothing I hate about the ways of your mother, but I’d be lying if I said I don’t get annoyed. We have our differences and we will have more in the future, but Your Mother and I we always work things out, no matter how long it takes us. We have a bond in between us which is called HOPE, and that is you my littlest Nadia.

Written on 24^th June 2008

Miracle

Before the 19^th century any attempt to prevent the death of premature babies was considered a defiance of nature. Death of such babies was considered a natural, humane fate. It wasn’t until the late 19^th century that this concept changed when a few doctors in Europe began pioneering treatments of what were then called feeble Infants.

At the forefront of this medical crusade was a French physician, Dr Pierre Budin. In his work with premature babies, Budin has Identified three major high risk factors that set them apart from full-term infants: they were easily chilled, feeding was the problem because they had difficulty sucking and breathing, and they were prone to infections and respiratory distress.

To address the chilling problem he kept the infants in a sealed box heated by bottles of hot water beneath it.

To feed them, he devised something called a “gavage” tube for depositing food directly into the stomachs of infants too feeble or small to suck.

And when an epidemic struck his Hospital in Paris in 1869, he insisted that his nurses wash and don clean gowns before touching the newborn, the baby bottles and their contents be sterilized and the sick infants and their caretakers be isolated from healthy babies.

Neonatology received a badly needed boost in the post-World War II era when there was a hospital boom. By the early fifties many of the newly built hospitals featured premature-infant-care centers, which led to the development of the modern incubators.

But what really put neonatology on the edge of medical science was the US national tragedy. On August 7, 1963, Patrick Bouvier Kennedy was born, the third child of the young President J.Kennedy and his wife Jacquelin Kennedy, Patrick was born nearly six weeks early. In 1963 his prematurity posed a formidable challenge to doctors.

After few hours of his delivery he had an ailment now commonly known as respiratory distress syndrome. After only 39 hours of his life Patrick was dead. This galvanized the medical profession and unleashed a tidal wave of research. One of the first breakthroughs came from a pediatrician in Toronto who used a gentle-acting ventilator that could help preemies (premature infants) breathe till their delicate lungs developed or healed.

With his weight at just 1.8 kilos, the 34-week-old Patrick Kennedy would today have better than a 98 percent chance of survival. (Nadia’s weight was 1.2 kilos at 33 weeks, when she was born)

Doctors now have at their command a formidable medical arsenal to help them fight for the life of a premature baby.

But some days it isn’t enough.

Science Of being a father

“I cannot think of any need in childhood as the need for a father protection”

-Sigmund Freud-

I was reading a magazine and my eyes fell on this certain article called “Dad effect”.
I had to read it a couple of times to understand it but I certainly did and I wanted to share how much of an effect a dad has over his child.

The Scientific Reasoning:

It was always thought that mothers were hormonally primed to be parents, and fathers learned child bearing culturally. However fathers are better equipped and prepared biologically for parenting, than previously thought.

• Levels of hormone testosterone dropped in the weeks surrounding his baby’s birth, and the levels of Oestrogen and Prolactin, normally associated with females, rose. Prolactin promotes milk production in women and stimulates maternal behavior such as nest building in some species.

Fathers with higher level of Prolactin are more alert to a baby’s cry and those with lower level of testosterone feel more like responding to it.

Pheromones are chemical signals that can change behavior and all sorts of creatures- from Insects to Humans emit them. Father pheromones may help to explain why girls reach puberty when they do. Women who grew up with their biological father in the household experienced sexual maturation four months earlier on an average, than women who lived with their biological father.

(In a study of 2000 females in college). Fathers may emit a pheromone that slows their daughter’s sexual maturation, (Possibly nature’s defense against inbreeding in mammal).

On Language Development:

• In how children learn language, fathers have a bigger role in their children’s language development. Fathers who use more diverse vocals have positive impact on their children’s later development. Books a father selects and the way he reads and talks about them, strongly influence kids language development, reading skills and general knowledge. A Dad is more like to choose non fiction over fiction. Girls whose fathers read to them show much higher verbal skills.
  

Parenting Style:

• Fathers have different parenting style from mothers. Whereas mothers like to soothe and calm down their children, fathers like to excite and stimulate them, and dads likes to encourage their child to take risk. Fathers tend to be more arousing and unpredictable with their kids from the beginning. Babies as young as eight weeks old notice the difference between Mums protectiveness and a Dad stimulation.

Kids picks father over mothers for fun and action more than two thirds of the time. When a Dad plays rough, “its about affection not aggression, kids are learning their capabilities and limitations”. Mums sometimes spoil the fun with concern about sleep and cleanliness, but that’s just maternal instinct.

Daddy style play builds cognitive skills and helps children acquire social and emotional experience that prepares them for school, how to take turns, how to negotiate, regulate and understand feelings and how to be a leader. “Kids who learn these early social skills from their fathers do better with peers”

From our earliest moments in life fathers helps us face the world. Most Mothers prefer holding their infants towards them; babies find this safe and comforting. Fathers swap that feeling of security for a broader view letting babies notice the sights and sounds around them. Women think of nurturing as protecting and holding on to the child. What fathers do particularly well is promote children’s Independence and let go in a loving way.

Father’s Involvement:

When Fathers are involved in activities in school of their children, such as PTA meetings, sports day etc, the children gets encouraged and take part in more extracurricular activities. For fathers to spend more time with their kids, bring immediate as well as long term gains. Children of Involved dads are more popular, get on better with peers and are more empathetic.

• It is also found that teenagers with involved fathers are 80 per cent less likely to have been in jail, 75 per cent less likely to have troubles with the law and less likely to become unwed parents. And girls whose father takes an interest in what they do are more likely to stick with their extracurricular activities such as sports, music, arts, reading.

Mums and Dads are indeed different, but their distinctive styles of caretaking complement each other perfectly to the advantages of children.

“Dads involvement before the age of seven lays the ground for a lot of goodies later on”

N.B. For Divorced Fathers: Even when men don’t live in the same home with their kids their presence in their children’s lives is still vital. There is a saying there can be an ex-husband, but not an ex-father.

What I want my daughter to know

As Thomas Murray wrote, “Wait until you have children; your life will never be the same again”. I know now what he meant by that perfectly. My daughter changed me in a way I never thought possible. Before she came along I was lost and did not know where I’d go, but now I have a reason to live for, and something worth fighting for.

I want her to know certain things in life, some of which I myself found out after Nadia came along. You can teach a kid two plus two is four but that lesson has an end. To teach a child about life’s lesson takes a lifetime itself.

• I want her to understand the absolute profound relationship between Happiness and Love. I want her to know that Love is something which cannot be explained and it is something which has to be shown and that happiness cannot be measured with lengths of time. I won’t be able to tell her how I love her mother; it is something which we have to show her.
• “Life is not lived in a lifetime or season, but in sunny mornings and snowy afternoons, in picnic yards, in waiting for a Childs fever to break, in sitting quietly with your husband or wife on a Wednesday night. That if you can’t find happiness here, you will not find it in the horizon”.
• A parent owes children a good grasp of honesty and integrity. Human integrity has the same advantages as structural Integrity- both hold things together through hell and high water.
• The world is about people, we all get from them no more than what we give, we will always be happier when we love more than we hate, when we help more than we hurt.
• The only one bit of real magic in this life that can truly move mountains and turn dreams into things she can touch and feel and see and enjoy. And that magic is called “Believing in yourself”.
• Whatever we think we can achieve. I want my child to understand that if she believes in herself, she can use her energy to work towards what she wants to be or to do, and not in wondering whether she’s good enough to try. For worry will wear her out as fast as work, and worse will tie her down to the starting line.
• There is nothing like a good man or a good woman. And whatever they most want their work to bring them- Respect, Satisfaction, Praise, Money, and Security, becoming and being a good man or a good woman will bring her to sooner than anything else.
• I’d give my Child a sense of security and hope that she develops enough of a willingness and ability to think that she will feel comfortable with an open mind. A doctor might tell my child that what she eats everyday may determine how long she will live, but length of life depends on what we think. Those with an open mind- the real artists, philosophers, writers, thinkers- often seem to live a long life. I would agree with the author of “ A Child to Change your life” , that it is because attitudes more than age or energy levels make people seem old or young; because people who never close their minds, who never mentally retire seldom seem to let down physically or spiritually either. They never lose a kind of childlike appetite for what comes next and always seem to be listening to a little prodding and pushing them to never miss a sunrise.
• Let children come to you on their own term, do not impose yourselves upon them, I won’t use my daughters small being to ease my anxieties. I’d let her decide how much attention she needs how much love she want displayed and when. I’d try and be a great reservoir of strength she could dip into at will. I’d never try to drive my daughter from me by overwhelming her with my moods.

These excerpts are from various books I read and I added my own to them. ®

Father To Daughter

I awaited your coming, alone on a bench, praying you and your mother would pull through inside that Theatre where you were born, that wet June morning. The midwife brought you out and my eyes fell upon you, you were as tiny as small can be, your eyes sparkled like an emerald, my little jewel draped in whites.
You were so nimble and tender, they wouldn't let me hold you, it hurts me so, but knowing we'd have a lifetime together gave me comfort. You were moved into a sterile room where you'd spend your first few months in incubation. I came to see you after tending your mother, who after giving birth to you was unwell. You were lying there waving your arms and kicking your legs, with eyes that seem to beckon me. I couldn't stay long with you because Men weren't allowed much, but being your father I always came in even if those senile people told me not to...I always was by your side. Washing your drapes was fun, I'd wash as fast as you can soil them, I'd put them out in the sun and watched for the rain, cause I know wet clothes aren't comfortable.
Just a few weeks after you were here, one night you choked and turned blue, your mom and I panicked so much but you were in good hands and in Almighty's grace you were fine. That night I realized how much more you meant to me, My Love, My Nadia.
(Nadia means Hope, your Grandpa gave you that beautiful name. Nadia has 14 variant forms: Nada, Nadege, Nadejda, Nadezhda, Nadie, Nadija, Nadiya, Nadja, Nady, Nadya, Nadyenka, Nadzia, Nata and Natka.)

Your Mother and I waited 2 months for you to gain two kilograms from 1.25 kgs, until we could take you home.Yes, You came home one fine day in August, how happy we all were...I for one reason thanked God, cause I know how grueling it was for you in that hospital. Everyday I'd look upon you and know deep in my heart how blessed I am to have a beautiful daughter like you, My Nanu!
I remember you first babble, your sweet little smile, what a warm feeling it was and still is to hear your shrieks and laughter. A lump still wells up in my throat whenever I think back at the time when I first heard you call me "Apa", I still can't describe my feelings my love it was all that much amazing.
You grow so fast and I am missing out a lot on you, because I have to watch you from the sideline, the reason you'd not understand now, but when you will ask me I will let you know. But, whenever I see you and hear your babbles and when you call me 'Apa', all my pain disappears.
You are quite yet very very active and playful; you'd not leave things alone wonder where you get all that energy from. I get very worried and lost my sleep whenever you get sick, when I am away, It brings tears to my eyes, whenever I look back to how you were and what you've become. I love you so much.
Now it’s already a year to the day that I waited your becoming alone in the waiting room, knowing with you my daughter I'd never be alone again.
God bless you on your First B'day my love. Happy Birthday.
I long for the day when we'd sit by the window, you in my arms, and read you stories, hold your hand and walk through the worlds we'd have created in our minds, my dove, I'd wait for the day when you'd teach me thing I wouldn't have known and you telling me about the wonders of our lives, all that while you’d lean on my chest, hearts beating together and we’d both listen to the stories little birds sings in the air.

My Journey Part 1

My journey into what I am today started out on a cold January Sunday morning, 2008. I took up a job with a construction company,
my job description I would rather not specify, I found out later that my job has a various descriptions and I haven't been paid from the time I started working till the day I quit. I am not going to share much about how lousy my job was. I just want to share the experience, the sheer fun of traveling into the unknown and the promising sufferings from loneliness when I was away from my wife, my daughter and my folks.
I had just met my 2 colleagues few days ahead before we headed off; the other was my brother in law, so when we hit the wet roads in a Sumo, that morning, all we talked about was how cold it was. We headed off without breakfast, knowing very well that on the way we won't find anything to eat as it was a Sunday (Tips for Travelers: Do not expect Food on Sundays while on the roads to anywhere, here in Mizoram, be it on the way to paradise...you will have to eat ahead or carry your own or go hungry). We bought some snacks lots cigarettes and we were all cool with it, apart from me my friends were worried about something and I never bothered to ask them, until one of the guys told me that they had sent two trucks ahead of us the night before carrying Earth movers and they might not be able to get across a broken bridge at "Dapchhuah" or "Tut", there was an alternative side road, which was muddy and slippery beyond my imagination. Anyways we got to that place and we looked around for the trucks, to our surprise they went down that dirt track crossed the river and were well on their way...we were very happy because one problem was solved.
Now it was our turn to cross the track which's inclined at about 65 degrees down, we were confident because our ride has a 4 X 4 gear, with new sets of tyres, but we were mistaken as the tyres got no traction, we slipped and slided down hills with only the engine and gears to support our cruise, the wheels were spinning and the guy driving was in sweats, I was very very worried, then we saw about 30 people ahead of us trying to pull a car uphill on that dirt, I was thinking about how we were gonna stop or avert that frigging car and those people, there was a widening on the road just about four meters so my brother in law turned the wheel and we slide into that little widening and one of the front tyres hit a big stone and we banged to a halt, when I looked up and opened my eyes everyone broke out into a grin. Anyhow the car passed us and we started our engine and after a few slipping and grinding, we had little traction and we danced a few more meters downwards and we finally hit the gravels on the bank of the river, in spite of the drizzle the water level was low and the driver revved the engine and we went across.
We were headed for a godforsaken place called Marpara, to construct roads along the Indo-Bangladesh border, my expectations weren't very big. Anyhow we met the truckers about 60 kilometers from the bridge and we asked them how in the hell did they manage to cross that dirt track, ask a stupid question and you get a stupid answer...Of course they drank spirits of the wild and summoned their courage and as they told us they just flew...plus they had tons on their trailer with six wheels plus a 4X4 gear. We left them where they were at, as we were of the same skin and as it was getting late and cold we had our own pit stop, then our journey really picked up. We had a cell phone with a media player which was useless for communication as there was no network where we were going. We started playing songs and before we know it, it was already getting dark, we were tipsy, hungry and damn talkative, and all we got that evening was kindered spirits and cigarettes.
We reached Pukzing at around 2100 IST, (notes to travelers: If you ever plan to travel this way brace yourselves for the ROADS, they are worse than your worst nightmares) we waited for the trucks and checked our machines and we went to a place where we were to camp for the night. It was at the ' Grand Vizier’ (VCP president) of the village.
This Place is famous for its caves or' Puk', the largest in Mizoram and they are at very steep places. During the Mizoram Insurgency period the militants used to hide in these caves...I was told while nursing a very rare commodity in a red plastic cup, that there are still militants who hides in the village after crossing the borders from Bangladesh and I was told their women folks were things to look at, that lifted my spirits a little. Later, when we cross that village while going to
Aizawl or back, my biological GPS flares up for the pretty ladies with Guns...but I never got that lucky. One funny story about this place is that there are more men than Women...my Impression was 'Bling!!! Homoland'. Our Earthmover operator told us the ratio...for every single girl there are 10 males, Imagine!

So somehow that night we ate like hogs, and slept. The next morning was bad memory, yes the hangover was that bad, but we had to move on as we have only twenty kilometers to hit, unload our machines and move them further 25 kilometers to our actual site, the whole day was planned. The grand monk of the village had slaughtered a goat and we were in the mood until we saw our mutton, rare, almost fried, puddled in water but we ate anyways just because we missed lotsa meals the day before.
We moved on, twenty kilometers my ass, it took us ninety five minutes to get to Marpara, reason was the Roads again. As I looked out, I got shell shocked cause we were going into major culture change, from Mizos to Tuikuk's to Chakmas. It’s not bad at all, but knowing we were going to live with the Chakmas brought back the asinine smell of their delicacy called ‘ Dangpuithu’ or ‘Sidol’ in Chakma, it’s a little bit of everything amphibious anything that crawls, fermented and packed in banana leaves, open it and you die. You gotta smell to believe it.
We reached Marpara mid-day on Monday, we first unloaded our earthmovers and we headed for our transit camp. The first thing that hits me was the condition of the roads in and out of the village no black toppings, Dusty when dry and Mucked up muddy when it rains, we dance with our MUV when it rain, literally dancing. Than there is the segregation of the people, Mizos and chakmas, and the language we have to use, we interact with the chakmas more so we seldom use mizo language, we used mostly Hindi. I saw this sign; Way to MAR ‘S’, I stared at it until it dawned on me that it meant Marpara South…that’s where most of the Chakmas live.
We marched our machines towards our site which is 25 kilometers into the jungle from Marpara, it took us all day to move that damn D-50 Bulldozer halfway, while the dozer was on the roads we moved the excavator ahead and when we reached our Camp which was still under construction, I was very excited cause it was right there on the banks of the MAR river, it was January, the weather was pleasant and I was yet to find out how comfortable it is to live there.
Our camp was and is still, is in a place called ‘Sachan’ . Our dozer was still on the roads when we got back from our site at around 1400 hrs, we decided to park it, My brother in law had a friend in Marpara so we decided to go and clean up at his place, after that we all caged up inside our MUV, we had no heaters so we decided to get the Natural body tonic, we got hold of a local boy bribed him, coz its very prohibited, but still he managed to find us the original stuff, the infamous Chakma whisky ‘Duichhuani’ and we were all Halleluia! ( Note: It was hard to find the fluid everyday so it was only on weekends that we hunted when we felt like drinking, and darn it was really difficult as the region is in famine and they had no rice to prepare the moonshine).
So we got down to work, setting up, checking the machines and stuff, I was actually just watching cause I don’t know shit about those gargantuan beast of a machine. Everything was alright for the next two days but on the third day there was a Chakma strike, the reason they had yet to receive their land compensations from the National Building and Construction Company, the strike was indefinite, so we made plans to head for home and sit the strike out. We left for Aizawl that night, we had food and drinks and we had to toss a coin as who is to drive first and be the last to drink, I was the last to drive and I was very happy as we ploughed on our way home…until the second guy woke me up at dawn 100 kms away from home and told me it was my turn…I calculated quickly the total distance is one eighty so divided by three is sixty kms each per driver, I was mad as hell everybody was asleep except that ass who woke me forty kilometers early, he snickered and pulled out a bottle and handed me, we argued but hey the guy was sleepy he gave me fuel and I obliged…So I drove home.
So people drink responsibly, Drive on Horse power not Rum power!!! Adios Till the next Journey.

Next: My journey Back to MAR ‘S’; the real deal.

Lonliness: A sad affair

Sometimes I love being alone, doing my stuff, but these days I am just lonely.
For the past three and a half months I have been living in a remote jungle trying to make a living, It was worth the experience, but the place being a malarial infested region, I caught the disease twice in three weeks time and now after the treatments for malaria I got the side effects of the drugs and now I am afflicted with Pleurisy. I got fluids in my stomach and lungs and now I am bedridden and on top of that I have no one to lean back on, just my parents.
I have no regrets but sometimes I wish I had someone to take care of me, nights are hard and when I take my treatments its even harder, I just can't do anything but I am compelled to do them cause I have to take care of myself.
I am blogging this just to let people know that if you have friends or spouses or anybody you are related to who is unwell, take care of them, be with them, support them, wherever you are just let them feel your presence,and you will know beyond you reckoning how fast they could recover, because its just not the disease thats making them sick, its the matter of heart too. Never let them be lonely...Lonliness is such a sad disease too.
As for me I am still Waiting for my loved ones besides my folks at home to come to me and comfort me, its been more than four months since I have longed to be with them.