Four stages and a borewell

While contemplating on what my next post is going to be about, I stumbled upon a lot of ideas, and thoughts, even as I was caught up with my offline work. This was around the time when I was super tired and super frustrated supervising the super slow borewell guys! Remember all those weird status messages I had some time back!

That's when I so totally started believing in the adage Pelli chesi choodu, illu katti choodu which roughly translates to "Supervise a marriage ceremony/ the construction of a house and see (the fun?)"... How true! The whole activity (during the three-day marathon borewell session) and my mental state can roughly be segregated into four stages!

And what do I get? Almost similar emotions that I had experienced before, during and after my wedding ceremony. Yes, you read it right. I kept comparing the whole process with my marriage and divided it into 4 brief stages.

Stage 1 (Pre-marital - well in this case borewell - syndrome): I was super excited, but tense, worked up but excited again... just like the day before the wedding. There was so much to do and the long anticipatory wait was like a never-ending story. I kept praying that it shouldn't start raining all over again as rains played havoc with my borewell plans for many months now.

Stage 2 (This I want to term the pre-ceremony syndrome): This reminded me of the day of the wedding, especially just a few hours before the actual ceremony... It was so relieving to see the sun shining bright and orange that morning! The tension was still there though, as I wasn't sure if the owner of Laxmi Tubewells and Drillers will find some excuse yet again to avoid taking up the job at our plot.

Stage 3 (Wedding blues): Fortunately, and thankfully, the workers arrived with their gigantic borewell machine and another truck that carried other vital things like diesel, pipes, and people among others. I was super excited as they started backing the machine into position and asked me to break a coconut, sprinkle some kumkum, turmeric, and flowers, light a few agarbatti sticks, and they ACTUALLY started drilling. Wow!!! I don't think I can do justice if I try to express my excitement in words.

Stage 4 (Post-marital/borewell blues): This, to me, was like the day after marriage. As I had mentioned before, the marathon drilling session lasted three days draining me of all

my energy, patience and intelligence. I was deprived of everything - sleep and food being the most important. I knew the guys are at the root of the problem and the long wait was soon going to end, but the end seemed too far away at times - when I lost hope completely and felt nothing but frustration, especially when the casing pipes gave way twice and they had to re-do the entire process. A day-and-a-half lost in vain. :(

But I've to admit that supervising the drilling session was something! Despite all the hitches, I found it particularly thrilling to watch the work in progress, as each stage offered me a new experience. Apparently my parents had a marathon wedding ceremony that lasted three days too. Wonder how they felt at that point! Probably just the way I felt at the end of it all - when my mind and body were so numb, when I wanted nothing but the whole thing to end, when I wanted to just shrug my shoulders and walk off... into the wilderness without a second thought.

But here I am shouldering another major responsibility willingly, and moving ahead with confidence. This time it's supervision of the house construction itself :))). Did somebody call me 'brave'? I guess 'rebel' would be the more apt and appropriate word. Hahaha!!! And life still goes on in this sleepy hamlet - even if it is one step at a time.

16/11: The day Tooth Fairy visited my daughter

It would have been like any regular Monday morning as my daughter woke up this morning rubbing her eyes in an attempt to wake herself up completely. I carried the struggling six-year-old to the washbasin even as she kept refusing to let go of me. It was about time she started her daily routine - brushing, drinking milk, bathing, wearing uniform and shoes, going down to wait for the bus.

As I started brushing her teeth, S suddenly squealed like a little mouse whose little toe the fat cat stomped on. And what do I discover? 'Amma my tooth is moving, and I don't want it to fall off now,' she declared in a half-sleepy-half-weepy tone. I could clearly sense, and sympathize with, her loss, disappointment, unhappiness, and surprise. So in order to divert her attention from the problem at hand and help her spirits soar, I set out to narrate the famous story of the Tooth Fairy.

And the tale goes thus:

Once upon a time, not too long ago, there was a little girl who recently started obeying her mom and drank a full glass (so what if it's a real tiny glass) of Bournvita every morning before going to school, and also half-a-glass of the same sweet beverage right after her afternoon siesta. As the little girl had been consistent in doing this for the past four months, and was very obedient all the while without ever fussing about drinking milk, and increased the amount of calcium in her body, our Tooth Fairy was very very impressed.

And the Fairy had finally decided to pay our little angel a surprise visit before her 7th birthday and take one of her tooth for testing purpose. What test and why, you may wonder. But that's how Tooth Fairies are... they need to test the child's teeth before deciding what kind of teeth are supposed to replace the tiny teeth, whether they need extra calcium or not, and such other details which humans might prefer not to remember.

You see, like in all fairy tales, even the lovely Tooth Fairy came down from the skies in the early hours of the day wearing a resplendent white dress carrying a shiny wand with a star at its tip (please don't forget the butterflies that were flying out of the sparkling star), and tried to take out S's tooth really quietly so she doesn't know the pain or the loss. But since S is a bright child and wakes up at the same time every morning to be ready right in time for the school bus, the Tooth Fairy had to leave her work incomplete.

Same day, a little later in the afternoon:

S was back from school with her wriggly tooth still refusing to come out. She was eating her lunch quietly - a little preoccupied and worried about her tooth, and suddenly without much effort or realization on her part, her tooth finally managed to set itself free, and out it fell right into her tiny palm.

Was it a sense of loss, or was it sadness that glinted in her eyes along with tears for a split second? I guess it was relief more than anything else that dominated her thoughts at that point. She was suddenly feeling proud, wanting to show off her missing tooth to her aunt who stays 2 kms away, call up her dad and grandmom to share the excitement with them.

When daddy dear asked S if she was happy or unhappy, she was quick to answer. "Both. I'm unhappy because this is the first time it happened and I didn't know how it feels when somebody loses a tooth. I'm also happy that I'm becoming big." Wow! I was wondering if my head was filled with so many (conflicting) thoughts when I was 7. And we talk of generation gap!!!

Oh, before I forget, our Tooth Fairy is always very generous with little children. So, that afternoon, while S was in deep sleep, the Fairy had left Rs. 20 for the little one so she could buy ice cream and potato chips with the money. After all, the Fairy had taken something much more valuable to an about-to-be-seven child than chips and chocolates! And yes, let me confess that though I was in the same room all the while lost in the virtual world - chatting with friends and playing online games - I haven't seen either the Fairy or the hint of the shiny starry wand. I wish I was a child too to recognize the beautiful Fairy with her pleasant smile, and say a polite 'Hello' and a grateful 'Thank You'!