My Daughter Fell Sick. My Reputation Never Recovered.

In a recent blog (At the Mercy of a Six-Year-Old), I narrated how, for a week in 2017, my sister and I were left at the mercy of my 6-year-old daughter by my wife, who had to leave for our hometown to a family medical emergency. I talked about how my sister and I were tormented by Ananya. But just when the ordeal was about to get over, on the penultimate day, she fell really sick.

Ananya's sickness, and how I handled the situation, earned me a reputation. Somehow, not a positive one.

Years have gone by, and I thought that much water had flowed under the bridge. But an image shared recently on the family WhatsApp group and the reactions made it clear that my image has been tarnished for life.

I think it is extremely unfair. I will tell you exactly what happened, and you tell me whether it is fair for my family to judge me like this.

So, on the penultimate day of my wife's absence, everything happened as it had happened the entire week. I woke Ananya up in the morning, helped her get ready for school, gave her coupons for breakfast and lunch, dropped her at the bus stop, worked from home, picked her up from the bus stop after school, arranged snacks for her, and went back to finish the rest of my office work.

Though on most days I worked till late, that day I put my laptop aside around 7 PM and decided to take her to the playground in our apartment complex. It was the last day before the devil arrived, so I wanted to spend some time with Ananya.

Ananya spent an hour there, after which we came back to our flat. She went to change her clothes while I got busy with the zillions of household chores that I did not even know existed till a week before. After changing clothes, Ananya went to the living room to watch TV.

After some time, I noticed that Ananya had become awfully quiet. Never a good sign with her.

I asked if she was okay, and she nodded. I asked if she was tired and wanted to have something. She said yes to the first and no to the second.

I thought she must be tired and got busy with the work. During that entire week, everything in the house had happened smoothly, like a well-oiled machine. Because I was in-charge. I was feeling proud of myself.

After some time, I checked on Ananya once again. She was just lying there, with eyes barely open and it seemed as though there wasn't even a milligram of energy left in her body.

I immediately put everything aside and went to her. I sat beside her, like only a father can. I hugged her and asked her what was wrong. As soon as I touched her, I realized she had a fever. I could make out that it was quite high. 

I calmly but briskly walked (not ran) to the bedroom and took out the thermometer. For the first time, it was exactly where it was supposed to be. After all, the house was under my watch.

I immediately checked her temperature. I do not recall the exact reading, but I think the thermometer, without mincing any words, screamed at me that I was screwed!!

I thought of calling my wife but stopped myself because she was already attending to a family medical emergency. See, that's the hallmark of a true leader during a crisis. Never overreact. And in any case, there was very little she could have done sitting 1,600 kilometers away. In fact, there was very little she could have done sitting in the same room. Unlike me, not everyone can remain calm and composed during a crisis.

I decided that the best option was to take Ananya to her pediatrician, whose clinic was about 6 kilometers away.

I was about to grab the car keys and lift Ananya into my arms when I was reminded of my sister. She usually came home late from the office, but in case she came home early that day, she would not have the keys. Even during a crisis, I did not forget that. Another demonstration of an uncluttered mind and clarity of thought.

I called my sister and asked what time she would get home. She said it would take some time but asked why I was so politely and calmly enquiring about it. I explained the whole situation to her.

Strangely, she first asked me to calm down (!!!) and said that she would come as quickly as possible, but it would still take at least 45-60 minutes because of the distance and traffic. She suggested that I call my wife and ask what should be done. Hunh! Such a pointless suggestion.

While I knew that it was quite unnecessary, I immediately called my wife and told her everything. Strangely, she also asked me to calm down! What was wrong with both of them!

Surprisingly, my smartwatch was also saying that my heart rate was 150! Technology isn't always reliable. Thankfully, Samsung watches in 2017 did not measure stress levels, or it would have claimed that I was extremely stressed! 

Yeah right! 

Everyone and everything had gone bonkers! I, fortunately, had not.

My wife told me about a medicine that I could give Ananya and said that if the fever did not start coming down within 30-40 minutes, I should take her to the pediatrician. She was merely stating the obvious.

I had a tough time locating the medicine and called my wife a couple of times. Eventually, without much support, I managed to find it. I gave Ananya something light to eat, and after that, I gave her the medicine.

Afterwards, I monitored her temperature through touch and with the thermometer at perfectly reasonable intervals. About every five minutes.

In between, just to keep everyone updated, I called my wife, my sister, and my parents few times. I kept applying cold compresses to her forehead and neck in an attempt to bring the fever down.

The fever did not come down even after 40 minutes, but strange new symptoms started to appear.

Palpitations.

Dryness in the throat.

Uneasiness in the chest.

Difficulty breathing.

Strangely and thankfully, none of these new symptoms were experienced by the patient. They were all happening to the caregiver.

I do not know why....because I was like...calmness personified.

I called my sister and was relieved... I mean... it was good to know that she was just 10-15 minutes away. We decided that we would go to the pediatrician as soon as she arrived.

Fifteen to twenty minutes later, my sister reached home. She took stock of the situation. We checked Ananya's temperature once again. It had come down slightly but was still quite high.

The other symptoms - palpitations, dryness in the throat, uneasiness in the chest, and difficulty breathing - had increased, though.

My sister must have silently thanked God that I was there to take care of everything. Deep inside, she must have felt immensely proud of how I had handled the situation.

But, not someone who shows appreciation easily, she looked at me in a strange manner and asked me to drink some water. I did not understand that. Women can say anything. There was no time to try and comprehend all that.

She called my wife and asked her not to worry. But then she made a strange remark. While speaking to my wife, she said that she was not sure whom to take to the hospital first.

I do not know what she meant, but she probably said that to lighten the mood.

We took Ananya to the pediatrician, who also strangely asked me to calm down. Women!! She prescribed a few medicines and sent us away.

With those medicines, the fever came down. Ananya had a light dinner and went to sleep. I checked her temperature several times during the night with a non-contact infrared thermometer.

The next morning, the fever returned. We gave her medicine after a light breakfast, and the fever slowly retreated.

In the afternoon, my wife returned home, and I handed over charge to her.

On the day Ananya fell sick, I, of course, handled everything brilliantly. I did not ask for appreciation, a medal, or the Bharat Ratna, though I deserved all of them. 

Something baffles me, though.

During that period, I do not know why my watch kept alerting me that my heart rate was too high, why I kept having palpitations and all the other symptoms, why everyone kept asking me to calm down, or why my sister remarked that she was not sure whom to take to the hospital first.

Mysteries of life.

When my wife returned, my sister joked about how I had panicked, and they both laughed. It was absolutely not true, but being a magnanimous person who doesn't mind others laughing at his expense, I let it go.

But yesterday, my wife posted a picture on the family WhatsApp group (see a slightly modified version below) and asked everyone if the family in the picture was an accurate depiction of the three of us.

Everyone agreed. They said that the family was indeed like us. More specifically, they insisted that the brown bear in the background was exactly like me and how I behave in such situations.

Completely unfair, isn't it?

(Note: This is the image that my wife shared on the family WhatsApp group. I have slightly modified it by adding the names.) 

Convicted by a Five-Year-Old

Today, my wife reminded me of an incident that happened in 2017 and requested that I write about it.

We had just returned from Malaysia after spending little over 5 years there. My daughter was five years old and had joined a school in Pune.

In Class 1, students learn basic English, Maths and Hindi, but they learn more about good habits, hygiene, body parts, family, social skills, soft skills, and good behaviour. I am sure her school was teaching her all those things. We used to ask her every day what she had learned in school, but she would not divulge much. She still does not!

One day, the three of us went to watch a movie. I do not recall the the movie, but I do remember that the movie hall was mostly empty and that we had corner seats in the top row. I also remember that my daughter was wearing a purple frock with bright flowers printed on it. As always, she looked extremely cute. 

Although we had bought tickets for our daughter, like most kids her age, she hardly sat in her seat. She climbed down and started walking around. Since she was not making any noise and there were not too many people around, we did not mind or stop her. 

During the interval, we got some snacks. The usual stuff. Popcorn, fries, soft drinks, and a chicken hotdog. It was brought in a snacks tray. We enjoyed the snacks and continued watching the movie. Since I was the only one eating popcorn, and popcorn lasts the longest, the tray eventually landed in my lap. I was sitting in the corner seat, with my wife next to me and our daughter standing beside her.

Once I finished the popcorn, I put the tray under my seat. 

While I was doing that, I noticed that my daughter was looking at me. I smiled at her and continued watching the movie. Although I stopped looking at her, I could tell from the corner of my eye that she was still staring at me.

Then she came over and stood in front of me. She looked sad and disappointed. I could tell that she wanted to say something. I immediately bent forward and gently put my arms around her. I brought my ear close to her face and waited for her to speak. 

And then she asked...

"Are you a bad human?"

I was taken aback but thought (and hoped) I had misheard her. So I asked again... only to hear the same brilliant question once more. Entirely my fault. 

She repeated, "Are you a bad human?"

I was stunned and looked towards my wife. She was busy with her fries and did not care what was going on around her. I told her about the question. Again, entirely my fault, as all I got in return were some wicked giggles.

I asked my daughter why she had asked me that. She did not answer. Then my wife asked her too. 

At that point, my daughter pointed towards the snack tray that I had put under my seat and said, "Teacher says that people who litter are bad humans."

The movie was no longer the most entertaining thing in the theatre for my wife. She was laughing like the evil and crazy woman she actually is.

Since when is putting a snack tray under the seat considered littering? 😡

But there was no point arguing with this three-foot-tall little ball of cuteness.

And now, nine years later, someone should see her room. The mess that she creates. A city completely devastated by earthquake looks more organized and neat compared to her room. All that learning, which was slightly flawed in any case, was only for me???

But the question still haunts me. And I can never forget her expression. She was genuinely disappointed to discover that her father was a "bad human!!" 

Our Customized Bubu-Dudu

At the Mercy of a Six-Year-Old

My wife suggested that I write this blog, which is about an episode that happened in late 2017. She had to leave for our hometown due to a family medical emergency and she left our daughter - Ananya - in my care. Or, to be more accurate, she left me at the mercy of our six-year-old daughter!

I prepared a list of tasks that I am supposed to do during my wife's absence. I had to ensure that Ananya got up on time, get her ready for school, take care of her breakfast and tiffin, drop her at the bus stop, pick her up in the evening, help her with her homework and studies, wash her clothes (not at the dhobi ghat; in the washing machine), manage dinner and ensure that she slept on time. In addition, I had to manage my meals and my regular office work. 

The list made me dizzy. I realized that my wife actually did some work and didn't just watch TV and chit-chat on the phone!

Like a true consultant, I divided the list into three categories - 'Must Do', 'Good To Do' and 'There Is No Way I Can Do That'. After categorizing the tasks, as the newly appointed leader of the house, I made three executive decisions.

First, I called the office and informed them that I would be working from home for the next few days. They agreed.

Second, I informed the teachers that Ananya would not be able to complete her homework assignments for the next few days. They agreed. I even told my wife that studies would remain optional. (As if they had been mandatory till then or since then.) She agreed.

Lastly, I made a distress call to my sister (who lived in the same city) for help. My place was around 25 km away from both her house and office, but she thankfully agreed to stay with us and commute daily.

The dizziness went away. 

Now, my sister was in charge of meals. I had to wake Ananya up, get her ready, drop her at the bus stop, pick her up in the afternoon and put her to bed at night. 

Easy Peasy, Lemon Squeezy!! 🍋

Now, I had my sister to help me. What could possibly go wrong? 

But the little devil had other plans.

From the moment my wife stepped out of the house, my daughter knew who was in charge. She knew that her father (and to a large extent, even her Bua (Aunt)) was clueless about most things, and she exploited that knowledge with remarkable efficiency.

She would get up when she wanted. She would take her own sweet time getting ready, while her helpless father panicked and kept looking at the watch anxiously. She would tell us that she was allowed to go to school with untied hair. She would tell us that she was allowed to wear coloured socks instead of the socks that were part of her uniform. She would stroll to the bus stop with the grace of a queen, while I carried her bag and water bottle like her coolie and panted for breath.

My sister once got up early to make noodles for her for tiffin, but Ananya told us that her teacher scolded students for bringing "unhealthy" food to school. She insisted on getting a meal coupon that she could use in the school cafeteria. We had a few coupons in our emergency stash, so I gave her one.

Upon returning, she told us that she had eaten pasta. 

So much for a healthy meal! 

The next day, my sister made chapati and bhindi (Okra), but some other excuse was given and another meal coupon was extorted.

Tying her hair was a big challenge. I had never done it. My sister never had long hair, so even she was not particularly good at it. Also, I think tying your own hair is much simpler than tying someone else's hair. And if that someone is a restless little monster, it is even more difficult. 

I remember that on one of the days, my sister tied Ananya's hair multiple times, and each time the outcome was rubbished by her client. Tired and anxious, my sister made one final attempt and asked me for my opinion. 

Both of them looked at me with hope. 

Ananya hoped that I would say it was very bad. My sister - helplessness written all over her face - hoped that I would approve it. 

I approved it, though it was her worst attempt of the day! 

My mother used to roll/twist her dupattas to store them, and honestly, Ananya's hair looked like a dupatta rolled way too many times! 

That day, her teacher asked Ananya who had tied her hair, and Ananya promptly replied, "My aunt. She does not know how to tie hair." 

Her teacher tied her hair again.

During the entire period my wife was away, our lives looked like scenes from the movie The Devil Wears Prada. Ananya was like a little Miranda Priestly, and my sister and I were like the two hapless personal assistants. Every day, after dropping her at the bus stop, both me and my sister used to feel that we have won a battle. Every day, after tying Ananya's hair and receiving a reluctant, disappointed approval, my sister would fall flat on the bed, relieved to have survived the ordeal.

Thankfully, my wife returned within a week, but not before Ananya decided to fall really sick on the penultimate day...just to make us look even worse!

Our Love Language

Some couples send flowers. Me and my wife send Bubu-Dudu reels to each other. That's our love language!! And now I create some for her. 

The Name Crisis

A couple of days back, I was chatting with my schoolmate Gandharv on WhatsApp. Gandharv and I studied together in Class 12th. To be precise, we attended class 12th together as neither of us studied!! Ours was a friendship built on bunking classes, mischief in school, shared academic irresponsibility and the continuous agony of our respective parents.

I have written about Gandharv earlier this year in my blog post titled, 'A Tale of Two Soft Drinks: A Heist Gone Wrong.' He now lives in Dehradun with his family.

Back to the incident. Gandharv needed my suggestion on something and we were exchanging messages. In the middle of the conversation, I wanted to mention his daughter's name. Only trouble was that I could not remember her name!!

In my defence, I have met his wife and daughter only once. But this is not normal for me. I am usually pretty good with names. Yet my brain had suddenly transformed into a server from 1997. No matter how much I tried, I simply could not recall her name. And I felt awkward to ask him. What kind of question is this, "what is your daughter's name?" Friends should not be asking this question.

In desperation, I turned to my wife. Women are generally better at remembering such things. Birthdays, names, what someone wore in 2014, exact wording used during an argument six years ago… they remember everything.

So, with a lot of hope, I asked, “What is the name of Gandharv’s daughter’s?” But, like most times in my life when I seek useful assistance, she was of no help.

I did not know what to do. And then, my eyes fell upon my daughter!

Now this creature possesses a very unique talent. She can remember absolutely anything and everything, provided it has no connection whatsoever with academics. So I asked...again with a lot of hope..., “What is the name of Gandharv Uncle’s daughter?”

Without blinking. Without hesitation. Without even taking half a second. She confidently replied, “Pahal.”

The speed and certainty of the answer gave it unquestionable authority. This was not a guess. This was “I know EXACTLY what I am talking about” kind of confidence!

I felt immediate relief. My wife was stunned...because my daughter had met Gandharv and his family only once and that too in 2018...when she was seven years old! Naturally, my wife immediately switched to sarcasm mode (also her default mode): "So you are able to remember this but you cannot....blah blah blah blah blah"

Like always, I stopped listening. I was too busy feeling proud of my genetically gifted offspring.

I immediately typed my message to Gandharv and included his daughter’s name with full confidence. Message sent.

Then came Gandharv’s reply. “Yeh Pahal kaun hai bey?" ("Who is Pahal?”)

I froze. I stared at the message for a few seconds. Then I slowly turned toward my daughter.

“You gave me the WRONG name?!!”

My wife, who like always derives tremendous joy whenever I embarrass myself, had already started giggling uncontrollably. I was giving a dirty look to my daughter.

And then came her response. The greatest question ever asked in human history. With absolute nonchalance...

“Who is Gandharv Uncle?”

At that moment, it became clear to me. She has no clue. None whatsoever!

Mankind is making so much progress. Artificial Intelligence, quantum computing, reusable rockets, UPI payments… but all are pale in comparison to the confidence with which children can give completely wrong information.

I cursed myself for trusting this space cadet....and asked Gandharv,"what is your daughter's name?" 

Et Tu, Brute?

I recently ordered a grapefruit from one of the instant delivery apps . In the picture it looked bright, juicy, and extremely inviting. I also realized that I might never have actually tasted a grapefruit before. Since I love citrus fruits, I decided it was time to try one.

Within minutes, the fruit arrived.

I requested my wife to bring it to me because I was eager to try it immediately. She went to the kitchen with the fruit and returned a moment later with it neatly cut into smaller portions and arranged on a plate. 

She placed it in front of me and casually said, “It’s very tasty. sweet and refreshing.”

That made me suspicious.

You see, I have a long history of playing a particular trick on her. My wife absolutely hates sour food. If she ever asks me to taste an orange or a grape first she tries it, I will take a bite and - even if it is painfully sour - I would calmly say that it is very nice. She then takes a bite and immediately regrets trusting me. The expression that follows is priceless.

So when she told me this grapefruit was “sweet,” I was not entirely convinced.

At that exact moment, my daughter walked into the room. She saw the plate and said she wanted to try some. She took a small piece, popped it into her mouth, and instantly said, “Wow! This is really nice. Very sweet.”

That changed everything. I will ALWAYS doubt my wife. But my daughter, my little angel, my little bundle of innocence? NEVER

Feeling reassured, I picked up a large piece and confidently put the entire thing in my mouth.

The next few seconds were… unforgettable.

The fruit was extraordinarily sour. Not mildly sour. Not slightly sour. It was the kind of sour that makes your eyes close automatically, your teeth clench, and your entire face rearrange itself into a very dramatic expression.

When I finally recovered and opened my eyes, I looked at my wife.

Then at my daughter.

Both of them were laughing uncontrollably.

At that moment, I realized something historic had occurred. My daughter had joined forces with my wife. This was not just a prank. This was a carefully coordinated act of deception.

This incident should always be known as one of the greatest betrayals ever executed in the history of mankind.

I may have lost this round, but the citrus wars are far from over.

Goa Trip: Some More Pics

Goa Trip: Some Pictures

15th Marriage Anniversary!!

Same here....

Pics from Goa Trip - 1

Roshni and I.....Everyday!!!

Cochin