I live in Bombay with he-who-must-game, he-who-must-dance, he-who-must-leap-onto-cupboards-on-three-legs and she-who-must-steal-tomatoes-for-a-living. Someone told me it was poetic justice I begat a boy after all those years of bashing men in my column Chickwit in the Hindustan Times. So I figured, I might as well appreciate the poetry in being a mother, at least moments/milestones that make me think. So this is a mommy blog with a twist. It will not be about poop and boob travails, and will definitely not be a chronicle or diary, but about the things we think and do not say. Mostly.
For the purpose of convenience, the husband is referred to as OPU (other parental unit), the child as Re and the cats as F1 and F2.
I absolutely dig feedback and will try and reply to each of your comments, but if I don’t do so, hang in there. Perhaps my cat got my keyboard. And while I am all for healthy discussions and points of view, if you intend to be mean, vicious, malicious or racist, I have just two words. Stay out.
Please do not reproduce any text or images in this blog without my permission. You can write to me on firstname.lastname@example.org should you have any questions.
Enjoy the blog!