If you aren’t literate enough, let me explain. B.C. stands for ‘Before Christ’ (and A.D. stands for ‘After Death’)…and if only instead of ‘Christ’, the historians had taken his first name ‘Jesus’ and made it B.J. ….I could have easily fooled Rhea (my daughter) that by B.J. the historians meant ‘Before Jammy.’

*I am sure the Satan in you is thinking that B.J. stands for something else too!

Other Funny Reads

# Communicating a baby’s birth to the World
# Different strokes for different folks
# I think I am pregnant
# My wife’s oral contraceptive is “No sex today!”

The crying baby gets the milk
If you want a corner office (Indians should read it as ‘the glass cabin’) or the small laptop that your CEO has, or the US visit that the guy in the next cubicle is going on, ask for it. “Go get it!” as Sachin Tendulkar says in the Visa advertisement. If you don’t ask for what you want…you will never get it. If at all you asked and got it, just make sure the glass cabin has good vastu – else you might end up moving away from your CEO.

When in deep shit, turn to the right person for help
My daughter taught me this valuable lesson when she was just four months old. Though not a good ‘shitter’ back then (babies on breast milk don’t shit as much as adults on junk food) Rhea demonstrated that a quick wail in front of the person who had the powers to clean up your shit helped. Even when I stood next to her, she turned towards her mother and started wailing. Needless to say, the diaper would be cleaned right away. The lesson is, if you in trouble (or deep shit, as they say) let the person who could/would help, know.

Don’t walk till you can crawl fast
This is one lesson that I knew but had forgotten in my rush to keep up with the Joneses. Most girl babies start walking when all of 8 months old…but in spite of being 14 months old, my daughter still doesn’t walk on the floor. She waited till she could crawl real fast (her record is: the distance between the sofa and the center table…crossed in 7 seconds). Now that she can crawl fast, she has started to walk on the bed. I am expecting in the next one month, she would start walking on the floor too. Makes immense sense…why would you want to do something that you don’t know how and get hurt?

Eat whatever you can
If you are looking to build your health, you should learn this lesson from my daughter. She eats whatever she can lay her hands on. I know people – and some in my office itself – who crib a lot about food. Like me my baby girl also has no dislikes for Brinjal, Karela etc. What would it take for you to learn this lesson from Rhea? Besides, people who leave go out for lunch because the one being offered in office wasn’t good need to know that ‘tasty food’ is a concern only till you have a choice.

Get jealous of YOUR people
My daughter besides getting jealous of her toys (when we have visitors) also gets jealous of her mother and father. I expect her to become a little more giving ‘with her toys’ as she grows up but would want her to be jealous about HER people. It shows that she loves us. Don’t believe me? Ask my girl friend from Mumbai, whom I keep doubting under the pretext of jealousy!

This post is a comment exchange between a Ouchmytoe reader called Funky Pants, here. Here are the comments:

Posted by Funky Pants | June 9, 2008, 1:32 pm

It seems to me that you are heavily into stereotypes.
That, men are untidy and women are the cleaners.
That, men generally don’t care if their food touches bottom wipers (toilet paper, I mean).
That, as per stereotypes, men do not indulge in housework.
That, women hit cars from behind.
Dude, let’s not forget that the days that women stayed inside, doing housework is over. And I’m sure you know that very well.
You know, I’ve been following your blog for a long while, even though this is the first time I’m commenting. But seriously, either my taste sucks, or our sense of humour just does not match.

Posted by Jamshed V Rajan | June 9, 2008, 7:01 pm

Funky pants….would be keen to know why you keep coming back if you think our sense of humor doesn’t match?

Posted by Funky Pants | June 11, 2008, 9:33 pm

Right you are man!
Why do I do that?
I don’t know, maybe when I run out of things to read, I read your blog. Or maybe, it’s good for a read because you keep your posts short.
Seriously man, that’s good. Always, always, always keep your blog posts short.
Also, you have a cute daughter!
The first time I came across you blog, you’d written about her and it was a funny read. I come back in hopes of getting another such a read.

Other Funny Reads

# Bathing a baby girl
# Is my daughter a super hero?
# Baby sitting isn’t a nice profession
# Childhood & teething Issues
# The tonsuring & ear piercing ceremony

Arguing that all the clothes she wore came from my money, didn’t hold water. Apparently, in a relationship providing money alone isn’t enough. One also needs to give time and I wasn’t giving that. Maybe, that’s why when it was time to bathe our baby daughter, the over-enthusiastic me blurted out: “Do you mind if I bathe her today?”

The only time when I smiled

As we all do these days, I did a quick Google search on ‘How to bath a baby’ and didn’t find much. There were articles on BabyCentre.com etc, but how much can text convey? A search for ‘How to bath a baby’ in Youtube.com (for videos of course) yielded 8260 results….but not a single baby taking bath was an Indian, so I didn’t gather much there as well.

Swallowing my pride, I asked Rekha: “Where is the instructional manual that came with the baby?”

“Do you remember half of our relatives telling us that Rhea looks like a Chinese doll?”

“Yes, I remember. What about that?” I was a tad irritated.

“Then, you probably also remember that Chinese versions don’t come with instructional manuals. They are imitations.”

With nothing to follow, I decided to take the plunge. After removing Rhea’s clothes, I gently rubbed Johnson & Johnson Baby Oil on her Nandita Das like skin (now don’t ask me how I know how Nandita’s skin feels).

In a way, babies are also like machines….a well oiled baby works well. As soon as the oiling was done, Rhea pissed and soiled my t-shirt and shorts. Since I was anyway going to take bath after bathing my daughter, the higher authorities in my house decided to let me stay with a urea-drenched T-shirt and shorts.

After about ten minutes, I eased the baby into a small bath tub filled with really hot water. She splashed around for a while…but when she realized that the person bathing her was a novice, she started crying. The yellow duck in the small tub didn’t help. Neither did a promise of a visit to the zoo – perhaps, because she is just one year old and doesn’t understand a zoo.

Rhea looks up to see it isn’t the mom this time

The problem with bathing a kid is that, they keep on moving. It is like competing in a best handwriting contest when your pen is tied to the leg of a hen. I tried my best, but couldn’t save the soap water from entering her eyes – after which Rhea cried as if it were my fault. She definitely gets her anger from the mother.

Midway through, I was about to give up.

“Can you take over please? I am finding it difficult.” I pleaded.

“Would you find it as difficult if she wasn’t your daughter and she was at least 25 years older?” Rekha asked.

I just gave her a wry smile and continued to bathe my daughter.

The whole exercise took ten minutes….and only for about 30 seconds was Rhea at peace. Considering the slight temperature increase in the water, I suspect she was reliving herself at that point of time.

Anyway, I emerged out of the biggest challenge fatherhood could throw at me - besides, removing soiled diapers, washing soiled baby undies, and cleaning the beanbag after the baby pukes – victorious.

If you have a baby and plan to bathe him/her…or are pregnant and might end up bathing a baby soon enough, here is a video that could be useful.

Other such funny reads

# Communicating a baby’s birth to the World
# Come to me baby!
# The baby-mother bonding
# The initial months of pregnancy

As soon as the nurse brought Rhea wrapped in a clean, white cloth, my nephew asked: “I didn’t see any stork coming…how did the baby come?”

My mother in law who I am told was brought up on a high dosage of super heroes said: “She came from another planet…some place called Krypton. You know Superman also came from there.”

My daughter might end up wearing these clothes!

Back then, I thought my mother in law was only trying to answer a curious 9-year-old. But considering the developments in the last few months, I have a feeling that my daughter probably is a superhero.

Our suspicion was triggered when we realized she enjoyed spending time in the balcony – isn’t that the favourite spot of all our super heroes? Have you ever seen a super hero use the door to leave or enter the house? They always use the balcony!

As if that wasn’t enough, she has got amazing eyesight. She is capable of spotting even the smallest of dirt – something that average people like you and me wouldn’t even spot on the floor. I have a feeling, she is honing this skill of hers…because everyday we are forced to remove at least 5-6 small items that she puts in her mouth.

Rhea can also crawl into any space – even the six inch space between our treadmill and the wall – and come out unscathed. When I tried to do the same, I got stuck and we had to call the fire fighters.

Now that she is learning to stand by herself, she spends a lot of time standing against walls…trying to feel the surface. She probably wants to scale them….and is feeling the texture of the wall. She is also seen licking the surface…guess that’s how the superheroes decide on which trick to use to scale a wall.

When we try and play with her, she keeps waving her hands up and down…and then looks at her palm…as if something that was to come out of her palms…wasn’t coming. A web, perhaps. When she isn’t looking at her palms, she enjoys making strands of her saliva and playing with them.

After seeing all these activities, we have confirmed that she is indeed a superhero in the making….and now are debating which superhero she would grow up to be. We couldn’t arrive at a decision till late last night….and that’s when we spotted a spider biting her on her exposed thighs.

Now, it is confirmed…she is going to be Spiderwoman!

Other Funny Reads

# Conversation: Osama vs Batman
# Super heros comics on toilet papers
# Two things that are never bought at the same time
# I love traveling second class….
# The letter my wife wrote to me

Most of us have grown up watching beautiful and sexy baby sitters. If you haven’t seen a beautiful baby sitter….you probably have not watched much of Hollywood movies or haven’t rented C-grade porn VCDs from the nearby video store.

During our days of sex-deprivation, we would wait for one of the classmates’ parents to go out of town….and then look for a guy who had mustache big & dense enough to pass off as an adult. He would then be tutored and sent to the VCD store to act like a man and rent porn VCD. The poor guy would choose between titles like: “The Apple & the Worm” or “Youthful Fire” or “My Tutor” or “When We Met” (this movie was re-made in Hindi without the porn(y) scenes and named ‘Jab We Met’) or “Soft Touches” or “101 days of Slavery”.

Anyway, I wouldn’t go into the details of how we watched porn in the 90s because today’s kids know it better. What was back then a community exercise, is now a lonely pastime.

As I was saying, baby sitting is a tough profession. I know because I baby sat my 10-month-old daughter for four hours, this Saturday. Eventually, she won.

Rekha went to the beauty parlor for straightening her hair and I was left taking care of Rhea. The first ten minutes were like heaven. I had Rhea to myself and we were great pals. So much so, she even let me share a part of her lunch – four spoons of Cerelac mixed with milk.

Here is a blow-by-blow account of how the four hours went:

Feb 9, 1 p.m.:
Rhea seems to be friendly. Was Rekha lying to me about Rhea being a naughty child? Wonder if Rhea will grow up to be like her father - a very docile person. If only I can get silicon implants, I can ask Rekha to visit her mother’s place for a week and keep the baby with me.

Feb 9, 2.10 p.m.:
Why is Rhea going to the kitchen? Does she want water to drink? Do babies drink water out of the glass or like cats do they prefer drinking from saucers? Why is she hitting on the floor and crying? Follow her around in stealth mode and get to understand her better. After all, fathers and daughters are expected to gel well.

Feb 9, 2.55 p.m.:
Quick…pick her up and stop her from crying. Show her the toy ‘blue bus’ that she is so fond of. What the hell…does the fondness of a toy change with time? Will taking her to the balcony help? Can babies be taken out for walks? What if she cried….would the outsiders think I was kidnapping the baby? I am sure she wouldn’t say a word to save me!

Feb 9, 3.35 p.m.:
Will she like Amul Star Voice if India’s Chote Ustad program? After all, it is all kids. Or would she prefer to watch the 18765th re-telecast of Sachin Tendulkar’s century at Lords? Oops! Didn’t know there were other uses of the TV Remote – biting & licking for instance.

Feb 9, 4.00 p.m.:
How do I cook something to eat? While the stomach growls, the mind says that any attempt to keep the baby on the floor will only invite Rapid Action Force (which is now in Mumbai, trying to protect Raj Thackrey). The apron pocket is too big for the ladle and too small for the baby. Wonder at what stage Kangaroos ask their babies to leave their pockets.

Feb 9, 4.40 p.m.:
It turns out my daughter doesn’t love me as much. All she was after was the zip of the black sweater I was wearing – and it is now broken. Besides, from 4.40 p.m. to 5.30 p.m. she kept on saying “Amma” “Amma.” I tried to find out the language, but couldn’t decide whether it was Tamil (The Father’s Tongue) or Malayalam (The Mother’s Tongue).

Feb 9, 5.30 p.m.:
Now have to tonsure my head at Tirupati. I had prayed to Lord Venkateshwara that I would tonsure my head at his door steps if my daughter stopped crying. As luck would have it…she stopped the moment she saw her mother.

Other Funny Reads

# Wife wins again. And again.
# Everybody’s Bin Looking!
# Introducing: Sleeping beauty Rhea Rajan
# Accepting gifts from relatives

If you are about to have a baby, you might want to tie-up with a baby products retailer and make some money by diverting the surplus to his/her shop. We did the same and made approximately Rs 9785 - which has been credited into Rhea’s bank account as her first earning.

Anyway, for the first five months the teether was of no use. Rhea preferred her nimble fingers to the plastic teether. It took us five months before we could convince her that the teether was made from re-cycled plastic and hence wasn’t contributing to global warming. In September this year, she gave in and started using the teether. If you are a guy and haven’t had a baby yet (babies outside of marriages aren’t being considered while I say this), you probably don’t know what baby colors are.

For your convenience, they are being shown here:

As I was saying, in September Rhea started using her teether. Over time, the teether started donning many roles. Though it was supposed to be a device on which she could chew on during her teething …she also started using it as a toy. She would hold it in her right hand and hit it on the floor…the sound created was orgasmic. At least that’s what I gathered from Rhea’s expressions.

Again, over time…the teether became an integral part of her. She would want to hold it while awake, and when asleep. As a result, the teether was removed from between her lips and placed right next to her when she fell asleep. This was to ensure continuity …and the moment she got up, she would start playing with the teether again.

At least that’s how we ensured she remained happy, till one morning at 4.30 a.m….Rhea got up and decided to play with her teether. After repeated attempts to bang the teether on the cot (which had a cheap six inch mattress) and create some sound and failing…she looked around for a solid surface. What better solid surface on a bed that the father’s forehead? I wouldn’t really go into the details of what happened next…but yeah there was “sound” when she hit my forehead. Mind you, 9-month-olds can be really strong.

In my house, the teether is used for various other activities:

Other Funny Reads

Getting my hair cut under a tree
Getting locked inside somebody’s washroom
A south Indian family in North Indian winter
Entering a new house

Being the mother that she is, she has been trying to get my daughter to say ‘amma.’ In case you didn’t know…‘amma’ in Tamil means mother. That wouldn’t be much of an issue if I wasn’t trying to get my daughter to say ‘appa’ at the earliest. By the way, ‘appa’ means father in Tamil.

Our daughter has divided the house into two unequal halves. What word would she utter first – amma or appa?

Fathers don’t get a chance to get close to their babies in the first six months. When they aren’t sleeping, they are clinging on to breasts. I am referring to the babies. And by the time they get out of breast feeding…the first word has already been spoken.

While on the subject, let us also find out why this famed Bollywood dialogue is not be seen in today’s movies: “Kutte…kameene…maa ka doodh piya hai to samne aa…” Because the dialogue writers can’t get beyond lines like: “Kutte…kameene…Nestle ka doodh piya hai to samne aa…” or “Kutte…kameene…Milkmaid ka doodh piya hai to samne aa…”

Anyway getting back to the bigger issue on hand…the war has gone out of hand.

According to the latest news I picked up from the security guard in my apartment, my daughter has managed to say “Ammmm….”. The guard says, on sunny days (it is winter here in Gurgaon) my wife brings the daughter to the small park and talks to her.

I confronted my wife. I asked: “Why didn’t you tell me that she was now saying ‘Ammmm….’.”

“Why should I tell you?” asked my stoic wife.

I immediately snatched the baby from Rekha’s hands and started teaching her “Appa”. We were progressing well for sometime – she was saying ‘Ap…..’…but after a while she lost focus and started repeating a word which if spelt will look like this: “eeeeeeeeeeeee”. I know it doesn’t make sense …but as long as it doesn’t mean ‘mother’ I am fine.

The fight is still on…

Note: I need the support of all the fathers out there. Come on…give me tips to win this war of the sexes!

Before you start thinking that I have arrived in life (for not every Tom, Beep & Harry can afford to spend Rs 18,000 for 24 hours) let me remind you that I am still not the Shah Rukh Khan of Anjam. For those of you who have forgotten this 1994 movie, let me remind you…in the Hindi movie Anjam SRK chases an Madhuri Dixit, an air hostess, and in the process buys airline tickets whenever he feels like. In my case there was no air hostess but the occasion demanded that I be in Madurai. The occasion was my daughter’s tonsure and ear piercing ceremony.

For all those Americans, Germans, French and Japanese who read this blog, tonsure and ear piercing ceremonies are a religious crime practiced by every family on every BABY in the family. On the level of criminal-ness, it comes second only to the act of naming a baby when he/she is sleeping. One such victim is yours sincerely, named Jamshed Velayuda Rajan.

If you are a new parent you should wait till your kid is at least five years, consult with him or her and then come up with a name. For your information, I was named ‘Jamshed Velayuda Rajan Will Singh’ when I was two months old and sleeping…25 years later I would cut down the ‘Singh’ part because of the way Hyderabadis pronounce my name. Well, at least that Hyderabadi colleague who announced my name and asked me to come on stage …post which I took the mike and said: “Well, I can’t really sing(h)…but if you want me to…I can give it a shot. I am now going to sing(h) a song called ‘Papa Kehte Hain’ from Qyamat Se Qyamat Tak.”

For those of us who are slow, here is a hint: Remember, I was christened ‘Jamshed Velayuda Rajan Will Singh.’

Oh…shucks! Weren’t we on the subject of my daughter’s tonsure and ear piercing? Getting back to it…when I reached home by the Air Deccan flight (no, my house doesn’t have an air strip yet…my opulent family had sent a maroon colored Qualis to the airport) on 21st Nov…a van was waiting for me. It had some relatives who wanted to save the bus fare to the venue, some who wouldn’t have come if there was no pick up and drop and some who didn’t care but liked a break from the daily routine.

The van carrying 20 of my close relatives reached Alagar Kovil (a hill temple full of monkeys) at 10.00 a.m.. Relatives who could afford bus fares up to Rs 8 came to the venue by themselves, which was a good sight. I say ‘good sight’ because most of my relatives take bath when they have to get out of the house.

I don’t know if it happens when your family gets together …but when mine does, there are at least 2 murders and 10 attempts to murder. After 1 hour of discussion, 1 murder and 6 attempts to murder, they decided to have the tonsure ceremony first and then the ear piercing.

For those who don’t know, tonsure is the act of sacrificing the hair on a new born baby’s head (babies don’t have hair anywhere else), to the Gods. Hair is being sacrificed since ages because it has always grown back again. I am still looking for a man who has sacrificed his left arm or right thumb to God.

Like every religious act, I am sure this one too grew out of the need to be hygienic. Babies float around in their mother’s amniotic fluid for nine months (unless they are test tube babies, in which case they float around in the piss of angry lab assistants) and thus are exposed to all kinds of dirt. The docs of yesteryears resorted to “Sacrifice for Gods” as an excuse to goad people to be hygienic. And it is said that the a baby should be tonsured only after 7 months or so – my understanding is…that’s how long it took the babies of yesteryears to be strong enough to face the crude hair removing tools.

While on the subject of hair removal, let me tell you that the waxing of legs amongst women became popular in the early 20th century because of two reasons –

Again…next time…please tell me if I go off topic.

As I was saying, ear Piercing, is another criminal act which all parents and their new born have to undergo (predominantly in South India) within one year of the child birth. Once the ‘Asari’ (a goldsmith) finishes the monster’s job of piercing a baby’s ear…the maternal uncle gifts her earrings.

I just have two questions – why pierce ears at such an early age? Is it because then maternal uncle only has to buy a small earring (approx 1 gram)? Or is it because the girls could reject the earnings for lack of style, if they were older?

Note: After what she went thro’ on 21st November, I don’t think I would really
mind if on the day my daughter turns 21, she gets drunk, tattoos herself, gets her navel pierced and comes home.

Other Such Funny Reads

# Reporting from inside Laloo Prasad’s property
# Word Play - the next best thing to Fore Play
# Aging Gracefully…this post has my real age (like you care!)
# Is Mathematics the King of all subjects? (Don’t Kings have subjects?)

The conversation happens at 3.15 p.m. when the husband is in office. Talking of 3.15 pm…I am reminded of www.311pm.com - have you checked it out yet? It is an awesome movement being planned by the people of Chennai.

Getting back to our conversation, here we go -

Rekha: hi…busy?

Pppumpkincarver: Nope. Tell me…

Rekha: Nothing…was getting bored at home

Pppumpkincarver: What is the baby doing…sleeping?

Rekha: She just proved herself to be a tough 7-months-old…crawled all the way from the small bedroom to the study. (Yes, the couple have a newly agreed upon study in their house)

Pppumpkincarver: On her own? Did she crawl like an army man in the war front? Or like a tiger in a jungle?

Rekha: Like a tigress…

Pppumpkincarver: Wow…way to go. Wish I owned a circus.

Rekha: She was about to lick the CPU…

Pppumpkincarver: Daughter of two IT professionals has every right to lick the CPU.

Rekha: ha ha ha…I had to lift her…now typing with her in hand

Pppumpkincarver: We got to be careful. Need to plug all electrical sockets

Rekha: I suggest a shortcut - take up a house in Gurgaon with no power backup

Pppumpkincarver: Agree.

Rekha: You know today she woke up from sleep

Pppumpkincarver: Wow…you speak like a true mother…anybody who sleeps wakes up…

Rekha: Hear me out…and she started crying…but the tough taskmaster that I am, I didn’t go near her

Rekha: I stood in the kitchen and kept on talking to her….and she followed my voice to the kitchen

Pppumpkincarver: That’s neat. Did your family shift from Calicut to Kannur after 1498 AD?

Rekha: Why do you ask?

Pppumpkincarver: Our daughter seems to have some traits of Vasco Da Gama.

Rekha: And what is the connection with the year?

Pppumpkincarver: That’s the year Vasco da Gama landed in Calicut.

Rekha: Yeah right!

Rekha: z tttbbvb k.ikmn n jkjv www

Rekha: E/RS

Rekha: SS

Pppumpkincarver: What was that? Are you swearing at me?

Pppumpkincarver: Or are they my daughter’s first Yahoo! Chat messages?

Rekha: YES

Pppumpkincarver: Did she type the “YES”?

Rekha: No…but she typed in the junk earlier.

Pppumpkincarver: Thank God she didn’t type “Yes”.

Rekha: But I thought “Yes” would have been a very positive start.

Pppumpkincarver: …coz I wanted her first meaningful, typed word to be www.ouchmytoe.com

Rekha: www.Ouchmytoe.com

Pppumpkincarver: Who typed this?

Rekha: I made your baby type this…

Pppumpkincarver: Serious?

Rekha: Yes

Pppumpkincarver: How did she use the shift button for the “O”?

Rekha: It was obviously me…

Pppumpkincarver: That is awesome!

Pppumpkincarver: Now make her type: “My papa strongest!”

Rekha: n b ty tbb zzzzzzzzzz

Pppumpkincarver: In which language does that mean “My papa strongest?

Rekha: This is Rhinglish (Rhea+English+Hindi)

Pppumpkincarver: How soon before she can send me an e-mail?

Rekha: How about after her lunch?

Pppumpkincarver: ok 

Rekha: ok..now time for her food

Pppumpkincarver: sure…how many bytes is she having?

Rekha: 5KB…without optimization.

Pppumpkincarver: Good one. Bye.

More conversations from the past

How to get into a conversation with a girl
Conversation: Osama vs Batman
Narain Karthikeyan meets Sania Mirza
George Bush speaks to Pervez Musharraf
Sonia and Manmohan caught on tape

Rekha and I had also decided that we won’t be touching the marble floors ourselves and a maid would wipe it clean with water and Dettol every day. Now-a-days, this decision of ours is also not honored and our daughter of 7-months has taken the issue into her own hands – she licks them sparkling clean. Point to self – ask the landlord why he used the round marbles people play with…instead of the white, flat ones…one gets from Rajasthan!

As if that wasn’t enough…our decision that we wouldn’t touch the ants when alone has also been thrown out of the window. We had taken this decision on the day of our marriage when Rekha and I were alone, and an army of ants attacked us. We would later find out that the ants had been living under my bed-sheet for years…and they didn’t like Rekha moving in with me.

As I was saying, our daughter broke that rule as well and has now started diverting the ant traffic or scaring the shit out of them. I even heard one of the ants say something even as he (or she?) ran away towards the shelter…when translated from ant-ese to English it roughly meant: “Oh shucks! Run and save your lives….she is a giant!”

Will keep you updated on the rules Rhea keeps changing…till then, bless us!

Other Baby posts

# Babies can turn (Worlds upside down)
# Buying a pram for my daughter
# Babies – some learnings
# Shopping for my baby daughter

*I occupy center-stage in all pics because this was the first feed ceremony for the baby, which needless to say happens in the father’s lap. If I had it my way, we would have had it in my father-in-law’s lap…so that I could show you his six-packs!

**Ad Agencies seeking baby model may call 09971996581 and ask for Jammy. If you want to book the male model in the pictures, please ask for Rekha.

Here are the blog posts impacted by Princess Rhea

# Rekha and I are proud parents
# Baby Daughter’s Birth – Day one
# Shopping for my baby daughter
# Babies – some learnings
# Buying a pram for my daughter
# Babies can turn (Worlds upside down)
# Click Here for more pictures of baby Rhea

Last night at 3 am I was woken out of my slumber by an ecstatic Rekha shouting: “She has turned! She has turned!”

Though Archimedes was my wife’s favorite scientist, I didn’t compare her “She has turned!” to his “Eureka!” – probably because we don’t have a bath tub at home.

I looked up from sleep, trying hard to see in the dark…and finally spotted our bundle of joy lying in the middle of the bed. Though I was sleepy, I could make out something was wrong – Rhea (our baby) was lying on her stomach.

“She has turned indeed!” I heard myself shouting. In the next 15 seconds I was as fresh as a lily washed in the first rains of Mumbai. There was a problem though. I was having trouble recognizing my daughter. Ever since her birth on March 29, I had only seen her face and stomach and knees…here in the middle of the night I was being shown a baby’s back and hair and told, “She is your daughter and she has turned!”

For a moment, I couldn’t believe my wife.

“That’s not our baby. Our baby doesn’t have hair on her face…and she doesn’t have a John Abrahamesque flat stomach,” I protested.

“Oh…stupid man…she has turned…can’t you see that?” Needless to say that was my wife censuring me.

“If you insist. But is this thing like new year…I mean…do we have to stay up at 3 a.m. and celebrate?”

I have a feeling Rekha didn’t like my question, for in the dark (our night lamp is 3 years old and gets tired by 2 a.m….and dulls down) I could see her cat-like eyes spit fire. In case you have been married you would understand that tackling one’s wife is easy in the dark. Desperate husbands seek the help of darkness to present their case and win compensation. Unfortunately, compensations won in the darkness are always in kind (and never in cash).

Instead of answering my question, my wife asked me one: “Do you know what this means?”

“What…what means?” I asked. I can never think if woken up at 3 a.m..

“Are all men like this…or is it just you?” She gave me a frown. I could see her eye brows move up and down in the dark.

How could I let down my brothers in arms…so I said: “No…no…it is just me. Now, tell me what does our baby turning mean?”

“It means, very soon she is going to crawl!” I could feel my bed reverberate – that’s the amount of energy my wife put behind the word ‘crawl’.

I didn’t respond immediately. Thinking before saying anything is a trait I picked up from my grandfather, who once got into a fight with a hunter and still limps in his left leg because of a gun shot wound.

I think I just kept on thinking and dozed off.

I got up in the morning with a start. “My baby will crawl!” I shouted…all sweating…and panting…luckily Rekha was in the bathroom and didn’t hear me. I wonder if I should be happy when my baby starts crawling. Where is she getting the trait from? Maybe, I shouldn’t have crawled in front of Ibibo’s HR team and pleaded for a job!

Funny Blog Posts

# Kid Stories - How Tortoise got their shells
# Every photograph has a story to tell
# Mother in law vs daughter in law
# Places you visit before and after marriage
# Our visit to the gynecologist….

Rekha walked up to me on Saturday morning and said: “We need to buy pram.”

“I think, ‘p’ is silent…for I have only heard it being pronounced as ‘ram’. And I agree, the desktop is slow…we need to buy more ram.” Even before I finished my statement, Rekha’s eye brows were knitted and she was staring at me.

Non-IT people would never understand but people like me who work with computers know how important ram is in day-to-day life. I did try to explain it to Rekha, but she asked me to ‘go multiply’. Those of you who don’t understand ‘go multiply’ …well…it means F&^% Off.

At 11 a.m. on Sunday, we walked into Lifestyle in the DT Mall on MG Road, Gurgaon. The problem with the Lifestyle showroom is that I feel sad after I visit them. Why did God have to make Lifestyle if 90% of the items on display were to be beyond the reach of human beings?

When I say 90% of the items in Lifestyle were beyond my reach…I also include all the pretty girls exposing tattoos on their backs while picking up books. In a totally unrelated incident, I had dumped Rekha for almost 10 minutes – until I was caught looking at a healthy butterfly sitting on a white surface.

We then moved to the children section. Wonder if you have noticed but there are very few pretty girls wearing butterfly tattoos. The deeper one went into the children’s section the heavier the women became. By the time, we reached the pram…I was jostling with a Gujarati aunty, a Maharastrian behenji and a Punjabi uncle for elbow room.

From where we stood – Rekha and I could barely see the pram. After two hours of waiting, the attendant showed us the features. None of the features interested me much…and I would have decided against buying one had it not been for a feature called ‘Daddy’s Flap’.

“What is this daddy’s flap?” I enquired.

“Sir, have you ever taken your daughter in a pram lately?”

“No. Rhea is my first daughter…and this is going to be her first pram.” I pointed out.

“No wonder. Sir, let me explain…when you take your daughter out for a walk in the pram, you expose your marital status to all the pretty young things looking down from their balconies…don’t you?”

“I do.”

“You wouldn’t want that…or would you?” I did detect a naughty smile on the attendant’s face.

“I do not.”

“Good. In that case, I would suggest you buy this pram. Daddy’s flap is umbrella like contraption you pull over the baby’s head and then duck your head into.”

“Innovation!” Escaped my lips.

Sir, this pram will costs only Rs 7400/-.” Now, the attendant was being very patronizing. I wonder if he had a baby and if he owned such a pram.

I thanked the attendant, paid the bill and took the first step away from the billing counter. I hadn’t even finished the first step when I heard another attendant say: “Looks like Deepak has sold off another pram using the ‘daddy’s flap’ story.”

I didn’t turn…I kept walking. Gurgaon is full of conmen. As for me, I am just a conwoman – I con women!

Other Baby Articles

# Babies – some learnings
# Baby Daughter’s Birth – Day one
# Shopping for my baby daughter
# The concept of Birth
# Kissing – how it all began

There must be some gene in the girls, which helps them to retain this characteristic till they reach the grave. What else can explain a 30-year-old-mother of a 30-day-old-girl baby crying? Boys somehow tend to lose this gene as they become teenagers.

I have also observed that babies have no ear for music. I once tried to stop my baby daughter from crying by singing the Hindi song ‘dhoom machale’ from the movie Dhoom, but she just wouldn’t lend me an ear. Rekha says I don’t sing well…but how is a baby to know? If music knows no language, I am sure it knows no age too!

When she was handed over to me in a bundle (click here to find out how much the bundle cloth cost me), I had found her so defenseless. Rhea had needed my help to even smile at the nurse who was holding her. In order to make my daughter smile, I was forced to get behind (real close) the nurse and place my head close to the nurse’s and make a lip-smacking noise. It is another thing that the nurse was frowning. Today, my daughter isn’t as defenseless. She is powerful and aggressive. In fact, I am told that all babies are like that – powerful and aggressive. So much so, they can beat young, able-bodied men in the race for breasts.

When I went to Kerala to see my daughter for the second time, I came to know that they don’t like plays either. For long I had tried to make her smile but she hadn’t responded. I complained to my mother-in-law who promptly advised me to hold her attention first and then try and make her smile. In short, I had to enact something.

So, when I was asked to take care of Rhea when the mother went for lunch…I enacted Shakespeare’s MacBeth for her. She didn’t smile throughout the show. It took me a while to realize that I had chosen a tragedy and should have instead gone for Shakespeare’s Comedy of Errors. The good thing is…Rhea wouldn’t grow up to be a stupid girl…for I heard a relative say, “All study and no play will make Rhea a dull girl.”

Mothers change after babies come into their lives. Take my wife for example…she doesn’t want me to kiss the baby (I am sure she secretly kisses Rhea when I am not looking). Initially, I was mad at my wife ….but now have worked my way around it.

For all those husbands who after becoming fathers have lost their territory…here is a tip: If your wife gives ‘hanging cheeks of the baby’ as reason for limiting your baby kisses…tell her that kisses are like fire-and-forget missiles…once one fires it…one loses all control over it…and it has to land at some place. If not the baby, it could be the mother’s cheeks. Upset with your regular pecking…your wife just might say: “Go to hell!”

Other Funny, Funnier, Funniest Reads

# Shopping for my baby daughter
# Baby Daughter’s Birth – Day one
# The initial months of pregnancy
# Our visit to a gynecologist
# I think I am pregnant

No price can be put on the first dress that a father buys for his daughter. And when I say ‘no price’ I mean ‘no price’. That’s why I was mighty upset when the salesman said the pink colored 7 inch by 9 inch dress will cost me Rs 500/-.

Why would anybody want to buy a baby dress for Rs 500/- when one can get a Color Plus trouser for two hundred rupees more (at a sale, of course). I ditched clothes and looked for a utility bag for us to carry the baby stuff around – it was labeled Rs 3000/-. The baby trolley’s price range started at Rs 8000/- and thankfully ended at Rs 25,000/-. The baby car seat started at Rs 7000/- and went on till Rs 16,000/-. Somebody needs to tell Mother Care that not all fathers who like to carry their babies in a car seat rob banks!

I wondered if God was punishing me for wanting to carry the Rajan’s family name forward. Or was he punishing somebody else…and I just happened to be in line?

And, then it stuck me.

In spite of Father Francis’ best efforts I had failed to understand the story around Adam, Eve, the apple and the punishment given by God for disobeying him. After my visit to Mother Care, Chennai…it was all clear to me.

For the benefit of those whose parents didn’t believe in God and thus never narrated the story of how God created man, here is how it goes:

God sat down to create the most intelligent of all living beings and after a lot of thought decided that Adam should be created first.…for had he created Eve first, he would have been forced to create Adam according to Eve’s wishes.

Even as God worked on Adam, Eve would have said: “Why don’t you give him four hands – he will not ask me to hold the stool while changing the light bulb.”

She would have probably even said: “Can’t you make that thing a little longer?”

So, the intelligent God made Adam first. He walked a few steps back, and looked at him with pride in his eyes. Some say that having practiced creating a human being, God then went about creating woman and came up with a better product. I would rather not believe this – for there is no “New & Improved” tag on any woman. Neither is there a tag which says: “With features not seen in earlier versions.”

Anyway, after creating the two, God went about his other chores like – pissing (which we consider as rain), farting (storm, typhoon, cyclone), smiling (lightening – remember the best dentists in the world are in hell and he can use their help), and cleaning his ears (the white clouds that you see are the dirty cotton he throws down with utter disregard for global warming).

Before parting, God asked Adam & Eve not to eat the forbidden fruit – an apple which grew nearby. I am glad Adam and Eve didn’t listen to God and ate the apple anyway- for if they hadn’t we would have had no blogging in the World. But seriously, I think it was God’s mistake that he created Adam and Eve at the wrong age… as teenagers (maybe a 17-year old Eve and 19-year old Adam). An age when you always want to break rules and see what could go wrong.

If only God had created a 33-year old Eve and a 35-year old Adam, they would have listened to him and not ate the apple. Don’t believe me? Ever asked a 35-year old office colleague to break a rule? Especially if he/she is your boss?

So, our teenager Adam and Eve broke the rule and God in a fit of rage shouted: You will be punished” before walking away into the sunset.

Just then Adam looked at Eve as if he were a librarian accepting a book back from one of the students and said: “Hey, there is a leaf missing.”

Nine months later they have a baby – a baby boy. I forget his name…maybe one of the readers knows what Adam & Eve’s baby boy was called. The proud parents looked at the baby and felt elated. Though they never knew then that there was something called heaven (for Vatican hadn’t invented it yet), they were in 7th heaven.

Out of curiosity, Eve asked Adam, “Remember God had said we will be punished?”

“Yeah.” Adam had started what husbands today do – passive listening.

‘Where is the punishment? It has been ten month since he swore at us…and our life has only gotten better. We have invented sex, and now even have a baby.” Eve was doing what all women do today – asking questions which are difficult to answer.

“No idea.” Adam said.

“Anyway, can you buy some clothes for our son?” Eve didn’t want her son to grow up the way she grew up - without enough clothes to wear.

“Where do I get good clothes?” The good for nothing Adam asked.

“Why not try Mother Care in T Nagar, Chennai. Heard it is good.”

See…I told you…I just happened to be in line.