The Death Penalty, Mental Illness, and Parenthood

I did a paper on the death penalty and mental illness recently. It is nice to focus on something far removed from babies and household chores, so I got a big kick out of it. Did anyone know that many people on death row are mentally challenged? Imagine that! I thought the insanity plea was the surest way to escape the slammer and the pleasantries associated with it (Figured that out from John Grisham's 'A Time to Kill'). But apparently there are dozens of cases where offenders who have been executed or are going to be executed suffer from some sort of mental illness.

Reading their case histories, my stomach literally started churning (And I have a cast – iron stomach and am a horror – movie aficionado) . Most of these poor schmucks have a history of abuse – sexual, emotional, and what have you. One poor fella had a monster mommy who would tie him up in a sack and hang him over the fireplace or she would request the neighbors to beat up her son. (Talk about the neighborhood from hell! )Once she even buried him in the ground claiming it was a cure for asthma! This fella (Freddie Lee Hall) was convicted for the murder of a young, pregnant woman (prpbably mistook her for his mother). Another of these mommies from hell used to beat up her son, taking it in turns with his stepfather to whip him with cords and belts. They even made his siblings hold him down while they beat the crap out of him. The boy (Robert Anthony Carter) was convicted for a murder he committed at seventeen. Small wonder that these guys turned out the way they did!

Perhaps we should start handing out licenses for parenthood- decide if people are up for the task before giving them permission to go forth and procreate or whatever. It makes sense does it not? Remember that bugger named Josef Fritzl who kept his daughter captive in a basement andd fathered 7 children with her? If we had the licensing thing in place unspeakable tragedies like that one could have been averted. We have licenses for everything elso so why not for parenthood? Perhaps I'll make like Reese Witherspoon and do a 'Legally Brunette' to get the needed legislation passed.

Funny how I always come back to mommyhood, even when I am doing intensive research on hardened criminals and their fate.

A Horrifying Friday the 13th

There are times when you feel like flushing yourself down the toilet simply to put yourself out of the excruciating misery that has claimed you for its own. Yesterday, Friday the 13th was one of those days. I had caught the mother of all things monstrous - the cold virus. And to make matters worse my daughters had it to. Spent the day cuddling the babies and trying to make them feel better about having their noses forcibly cleaned to get rid of the bucket loads of phlegm that had taken up residence.


The elder one broke my heart by shrinking away from me and howling for her daddy every time I approached her, as if in her book I was nothing less than the Boogeyman and the ugly witch combined. Unfortunately, the virus does little to enhance my looks and I must have looked quite scary to her with my red nose, deathly pallor, and streaming eyes armed as I was with the dreaded hanky and noxious antibiotic. As for the baby she whimpered miserably bearing up with the stoicism of the young and made me wanna cry along with her. Finally, I got them to sleep but there was little relief to be had for me.


Could not fall asleep as my lousy cold simply wouldn't let me. Drank hot water laced with honey by the gallon. It is my personal remedy to ease the pain inflicted by the torture device that has plagued mankind since the dawn of time and which is destined to do so till computers take over our mind and then the world after laying waste to it. Anyways it works quite well, for me and people like me who hate medicines and will not touch it unless their life literally depends on it. And I have always ignored naysayers who have disparaged my brilliant yet simple remedy and gone on record behind my back to say all education has done is make an idiot out of me.


Loaded with honey and hot water, I made myself as comfortable as possible and proceeded to read Julie Garwood's 'Murder List'. It is about a hot, do - gooder heiress who is pursued by a serial killer and sexed up by a tough cop. I gleefully devoured Ms Garwood's literary offering with its liberal doses of blood and romance and was thankful for the release it offered me from the twin terrors of phlegm and a tormented throat. More importantly it had helped me survive Friday the 13th and kept me from the clutches of my murderous toilet.


This is a true story of survival in the face of adversity and how something as humble as honey and hot water plus a racy novel can make the difference between life and death. I hope people draw their inspiration from it. Let my saga of suffering be a lesson to all - WE SHALL OVERCOME :)

Two Girls?

People usually look a little sympathetic when I tell them I have two baby girls. Some sigh a little, others talk about fate and how we are powerless against its machinations, a few say they hope the next one will be a boy and then get red - faced when they see the look on my face. But my gyno's reaction takes the cake by far...
As I lay on the operation table, trying not to feel like a chicken on a butcher's block, telling myself repeatedly that it would all be over in a few minutes, and I'll finally know the sex of my baby, the room suddenly went still and I heard something that sounded like a mouse. And then Doc told me in a voice loaded with apprehension, "Its a girl Anuja".
"Ok, Can I see her?" said I.
"Sedate her! Do it now!" Doc told the anesthetic in an urgent whisper.
Next second I was out cold and I had not seen my baby! Boy was I mad when I came to. What the hell did they think I would do? Perhaps they expected me to conjure up a machine gun and go on a killing spree...Later Doc told me (by way of explanation for her unforgiveable behaviour) that she thought it was awesome that I was cool with having two girls and not many people handle the whole thing with anything close to equanimity.
A Doc buddy told me the same thing. Apparently there are cases where husbands and in - laws storm out of the hospital leaving the poor mommies sobbing into their pillows. Others pay Docs to tell them the sex of the baby though it is illegal and then opt for an abortion if its a girl. And my maid showed me an innocuous little plant (the internet tells me it is the oleander plant) and told me with ghoulish relish that somebody she knew had used it to poison and get rid of an unwanted female child!!
Anyways its far too depressing to think about all the crap that goes on in the world. I am just glad I don't have to worry about getting peed on in the face, Oedipus complex, future battles with the chippy who my hypothetical son was stupid enough to marry, etc. My only regret was I could not use the perfect name I came up with in case it was a boy - Agni (Imagine how cool it would be to introduce yourself as fire!) So anyone reading this can feel free to use my cool name for his/her son. You have my blessing.
Finally, for those who worry that they may wind up with a 'female' I have only one thing to say - Just give your lil gal a chance, trust me, she'll make you fall head - over - heels in love. And yes I read that over and lines like that are super cheesy but this one has the redeeming factor of being the truth :)
YVWAUKC6CPY7

I AM BACK!!!

Wow!!! Its been soooo long since I blogged. But I have been busy (kinda an understatement :) ) Got pregnant with baby number two and I must admit I freaked out a lil bit. Found myself in a constant state of panic as I wondered how exactly I was going to raise two kids and simultaneously do all the other stuff I had planned for myself (Write the best novel ever, win the Booker Prize, write a script that will have the hollywood bigwigs queing outside my home in Sivadump, win the Academy award for best screenplay, see the world, dive with the sharks, and finally get that perfect body) . Unfortunately, none of this is compatible with childbirth.

Anyways, I handled myself very well all things considering. I snapped at hubby and everyone who had the ill judgment to come within a foot of me, lost my mind temporarily when Doc informed me that she was not even going to attempt a normal delivery, spent the next few months raving about quacks who wanted to butcher you, cried at the drop of a hat, and generally drove everyone nuts with my bad behaviour. Finally, I found a way to get a grip ... STAR WORLD and Veda's PEDIASURE. The former helped me veg out and put my life on hold temporarily while the latter became my pet poison to drive the panic demons away.

I started writing in earnest as well but decided to put blogging on the back burner. By the time Varna was born I had successfully tackled my panic attacks. After the delivery, I was buried under an avalanche of mommy duties that included feeding, changing diapers, looking after the elder one,staying up nights, and keeping my act together. Star world reliable as always is still my bastion of strength and Ensure which has replaced Pediasure is the magic potion that keeps me going. And here is a tip for mommies who stay up nights - pop a DVD into the player and watch a movie. Hugh Jackman and Christian Bale once kept me company while Varna struggled with sleep issues.

Anyways, Varna is almost 5 months old and Veda is going to play school. As for me, I am writing again. Women's Era ( God bless em) publishes some of my articles. Also doing some research work. And I have made my peace with the fact that it will be a while before I do the other stuff, I wanted to but I have promised myself that I'll do it eventually.

Fat and Fit

My lifelong fight in the Battle of the Bulge suffered a terrible setback when I happened to read an article on Time about how exercise is simply not the way to go when you are trying to lose weight. I love to exercise and I hate dieting, which had the mixed result of my not losing weight but being secure in the mistaken belief that I was doing something to keep the fat demons at bay. The article was an eye - opener and stripped away the comfortable myths I had surrounded myself with.

Consequently, I had lost the motivation to haul myself out of bed and work up a good sweat. And to make things worse unlike my first pregnancy when I was into butter beans, greens, and drumsticks this time around I find myself fighting an insane craving for chocolates and ice cream on an almost daily basis. In fact, I have mutated into the chocolate monster. Today, I needed a sugar fix so bad, I actually considered stealing my daughter's Kinder Joy while she was sleeping. But I was stopped in my tracks when I saw the tempting goodie clasped tightly in her hands almost as if she sensed the threat to it even in deep repose. (Veda is wise beyond her years).

Things have never seemed darker and I am terrified that the day is not far when this junk food junkie, chocoholic, and fallen- from -the- fitness- bandwagon loser will be sold to the circus, having been mistaken for an elephant. While I was torturing myself with images of myself playing Jabba the Hut, I read the letters to the editor section in Time. Readers of the esteemed publication where almost unanimous in lambasting the exercise - is - useless - for - weight - loss article and dismissing it as irresponsible journalism. And I found myself agreeing with a reader from India who said it was better to exercise and eat than just eat and not exercise.

My new mantra for the duration of my pregnancy is to be fat but fit and I guess I'll focus on that elusive size - zero body a little later in the day. Have whipped out my forgotten prenatal exercise tapes and am going to start walking again. And now that I am back on the fitness wagon, hears to hoping that I don't fall off anytime soon.

Good Samaritans

If a Martian were to pick up a copy of one of our newspapers or magazines, it would be perfectly understandable for him to dismiss Earthlings as a bunch of maladaptive miscreants who have nothing better to do with their time other than rob, rape, murder, or wage war against their own kind. This in addition to being purveyors of homemade pornographic material and destroyers of the ecosystem. Atleast we won't have to worry about a large - scale alien attack! Anyways my point is news material these days is one of the leading causes of indigestion given the content that is covered. Which is why it was a refreshing change to read (in The Week) about some good samaritans who have been harbingers of positive change in a beleaguered society.

Two of the good samaritans - George Abraham and Dhruv Lakra, made a deep impression on me. George Abraham is credited with being the creator of blind cricket in India. Being visually impaired himself, he refused to allow his handicap to stop him from following his dreams. Today he works in the advertising industry and is always looking for ways to brighten up the dark world of the blind. Whether it is playing cricket or honing their innate abilities, George Abraham is there to help his brethren lead useful, fulfilling lives.

Dhruv Lakra is the founder of Mirakle Couriers where the mail is sorted and delivered by deaf adults. The 28 year old started small with only one employee but today the organization boasts of 15 corporate clients and 30 deaf employees! I loved the fact that Dhruv made it possible for the deaf in his charge to find a way to contribute to society while enhancing their own sense of self - worth and making good money while they are at it.

So Mr. Martian we are not all bad eggs. Sure, we behave like arses on occasion but you can't deny that sometimes we are adorable.We may wage wars but we also fight for peace and for every jackass there is a good samaritan. And yeah we made a hole in the ozone layer but I bet there is a genius somewhere who is on the cusp of a major breakthrough in the plugging up of atmospheric holes with discarded socks no less. So there, humankind rocks!!!

What Lies Beyond?

What happens after we die? What can we expect in that great beyond? Most religions talk about heaven and hell, but I never really bought that concept. Heaven is supposedly the place where everything is beautiful and clean and everyone is deliriously happy cavorting with chubby cherubs. Yeah, sort of like at a dentist's place sans the aesthetics where there is enough happy gas to go around. Hell, on the other hand is where you burn for your sins and are treated to a firsthand experience of torture devices used over the ages. Sounds like Sivadump to me :)

Hindus believe in rebirth. I am not sure about it, but I must confess that whenever my latent penis envy condition starts acting up, I promise myself that in my next life, I'll be a man. (You'll have a similar condition too, if in your family the boys are allowed to study in co - ed institutions and sent off abroad to round out their education while the girls are sent to all - girls boarding schools and then married off without further ado). And people I have no reason to be fond of will be cockroaches. Its a pleasant enough daydream but I am not sure it will ever amount to anything more.

My favorite explanation can be found in Harry Potter. In the immortal words of the great Albus Dumbledore, "To the well -ordered mind, death is but the next great adventure" . Well I am always game for a new adventure and besides it sounds a lot more fun than the "perpetual happy - hour" place and "eternal exile to Sivadump" place.


And for those who are wondering about my sudden morbidity, there is a simple explanation - pickles and ice cream for lunch coupled with a terrible case of morning sickness. Pregnancy is such a magical time. Be warned.