From my Pink Diary

 

If anyone would have ever asked me which part of my body I loved the most, I would have replied without even blinking that it was my long hair!

Yes, I had lovely hair – long, thick, black and shining as silk and I loved it the way it was. The love for those silky strands of hair grew more after June, 1999, when I met my tall, dark, handsome big man for the first time and when we were trying to strike a conversation during the lunch break of our professional meeting, his opening line to the conversation was, ‘’ Wow, you have lovely hair!”

After marriage and children, schedules for days and nights went for a major toss. Managing two little kids, a job and a house left little time indeed to take care of my crowning glory. Primarily because of that and secondarily, because the fashion bug hit me with lot of severity, I cut it short to a manageable length much to the dismay of my big man and my dad. The wavy curls adored me till I fell ill with Breast Cancer.

The first meeting with the Oncologist put my apprehension to rest when he described the side effects of chemotherapy that I would certainly lose my hair during the treatment. While the husband was more concerned about lot of other things related to the treatment and the disease, I only had one question to the doctor, “when do you think I shall get back my hair, if at all it comes back”. Even though the doctor assured me that the after-growth will be much nicer, I was literally in tears imagining myself looking ugly with a bald head. While everybody, who loves and cares for me, was praying for my life, I secretly started praying to be spared the trauma of losing my hair and go bald!

Eventually, when the inevitable happened and I had no option but to accept it, I got myself a wig – stylish and trendy which sat pretty on my “cute, bald” head (my son never let go a chance of telling me how cute my bald head looked). The first time a picture of mine was put up in Facebook by a dear friend of mine with that wig, there were quite a number of compliments to tell me that I looked beautiful with my new hair style!  The day I joined back office, my colleagues agreed unanimously that “I rocked the look”. As I was getting comfortable and used to it, my children had something different to say when I asked them about my new look,” The wig is very nice Ma but you look more real and natural without the wig. Get rid of it”.

…….I stopped wearing the wig and started wearing head-scarf as I was still not comfortable walking down the street with a hair-less head, howsoever real and natural I might look.  

In a span of few days, a decent collection of scarves was sitting neatly in my cupboard and just when I started to appreciate my new look with colorful scarves, it was already peak summer in this desert land. Walking down to and from office in sweltering heat with a scarf on was not a very comfortable thing and when I  mentioned this to my son one day just after entering home from office, he startled me with his logic why I should not cover my head with scarf :

“Ma, on your way to and from office, you meet many people but do you personally know any one of them? They might be visitors or tourists or whatever. So, when you do not know them, why do you have to worry how they feel about your look, if they feel anything at all? Those who know you, they know exactly why you don’t have hair. You look very pretty with or without hair and we all love you so much.”

He took the scarf away from my head, wiped the sweat and said,” From this moment, you are going around as you are”.

…….with tears in my eyes, I promised him that I would flaunt my “cute, bald” head without any inhibition. All of my friends and colleagues again agreed that “I rocked the punk look”.

The treatment is over and my “cute, bald” head is now covered with baby-soft layers of hair. Even though, I had intention of allowing my hair to grow long, I changed my mind the previous day and got a crew cut. Standing in front of the mirror, I took a close look at myself and quite liked my new look. Strangely, for the first time in few months, I was not missing my hair.

Possibly it was God’s own way of telling me not to get too attached to something as trivial as few strands of hair. With the same logic, I refused to subject myself to the trauma and agony of reconstruction surgery as I feel quite comfortable and complete even without a certain body part (I had to undergo a mastectomy of left breast).

To learn to detach comes with great difficulty. If there should be any attachment with something on this earth, let it be with and only with my Almighty who lifted my soul from gloom each moment during the ordeal of losing my hair and getting them back and let it be with few people who I found standing next to me each moment I wanted to hold someone’s hand to give me strength.

My wonderful family and friends, you are my only attachment on this earth and I care for nothing else.

Stay healthy and happy, all of you!

 

 

From my Pink Diary.........

I walked for the Pink Walkathon today for creating awareness for Breast Cancer with my friends by my side. While taking the walk, in my mind I was re-living those few months when the dread of the disease tried to overtake everything else in life.

As each day, I tried to keep myself strong enough to take the battle head-on, the small gestures from friends all over (a phone call just to check how I was doing, a BBM message just to tell me that I must not give much importance to the disease, messages on Facebook to tell me how courageously I had been fighting, a coffee evening with my Dubai gang of girls just to let me know how much they care for me) added to my strength and I felt blessed , each day and each moment!

As each day, I tried to get on with life notwithstanding the side-effects of chemo-therapy, my two lovely children reminded me each moment that I was the most “wonderful mom” in this world so what if I could not make “tasty” breakfast and lunch pack for school owing to my sickness or I could not attend their assembly or Parent-Teacher meeting. Just when I was too concerned with my hair-less head and I was sure from within that I looked very ugly without my crowning glory, they reminded me each day how gorgeous and cute I looked even without hair. I felt blessed each day and each moment!

As each day I tried hard so that pain and suffering must not show on my face or my voice must not quiver when I talked to them on phone, each member of my family back home (who were aware) also tried very hard to put up a brave front just to add to my strength and courage even though they were worrying sick and breaking from within. I felt as if all of them were around me all the time with their prayers and blessings just to protect me from all evils. I felt blessed each day and each moment!

As on a chemo-therapy session, a sudden and unexpected but severe allergic reaction almost dragged me to the death’s doorstep, I could only feel the tight embrace of my “big man” in my state of semi-consciousness. As he had been praying to Almighty for my life, he held me tight just to let me know that even death would not be able to snatch me from his embrace without a fierce fight. I felt blessed!

As when I was trying to find means to keep me meaningfully engaged and active so that I could keep my mind off from the thought of the dreadful disease and I made a casual call to my office, I was told to report next day. I was given enough liberty to choose my schedule suiting to my health as each of my colleague hugged me with a smile and said, “Welcome back, Minakshi”. I felt blessed!

The battle is over now and I see myself as a winner but I wonder, without the support of all these people around me, would this have been possible! I doubt! Is there anything more overwhelming than knowing how much I am loved by all of my lovely friends and family?

I feel blessed each day and each moment for this life!!

All my wonderful friends and family, stay healthy and happy – always and more importantly, love life and live life as much as you possibly can!!!

From my Pink Diary

(The past few days have been a little difficult for me with the cumulative side effects of chemotherapy being  at its peak with an add-on viral infection to battle with but then, I must not forget to explore the silver linings even within such mess….)

I have always been envious of girls who are taller than me even by a fraction of an inch as I could not reach to even a very moderate height of five feet. That made me terribly “height sensitive” since an early age. Just to overcome that sensitivity and fear that children of mine might inherit my  “height” related gene, I secretly dreamt for a very tall groom for myself (the image of Amitabh Bachhan – Jaya Bhaduri was ingrained in my mind).

After a massive search and drama (the story of my getting married to my tall husband has been told and retold on many occasions), I finally was married to a “tall, dark and handsome” person and thanked Almighty for his fairness of judgment!

Yes, the first time I saw him in a professional gathering, in a crisp white shirt, black trouser and a maroon tie, walking tall carrying a stylish leather satchel in one hand and a note pad in another, his destiny was sealed ( or rather mine!). Fortunately or unfortunately, he was chosen to be representing the 23 Chartered accountant Firms including mine. When he started the talking in impeccable English (another weakness of mine – being a village girl, I never got the chance to study in an English – medium school and always watch people respectfully from a distance who can speak English like an English man), my favorite Goddess ( Ma Durga) was flooded with fervent prayers.  My prayers were answered within a reasonable time frame and I got the chance to flaunt my “tall, dark, handsome” husband to my neighbors and villagers with a hint of visible pride!!

We settled in regular life but always made it a point to go out for a walk every evening after coming back home from our respective places of work. Even when the daughter was born, our schedule of a 40-minutes’ walk with the baby in her stroller, was not broken. We both looked fit and healthy and enjoyed the time together with so much to talk, relevant and irrelevant.

……and then suddenly, things changed. He joined a corporate house in a profile which demands extensive travelling and if we would have kept a log, he has ever since, clearly spent more time in the airport lounges around the world than he has spent at home. By that time, I became mother to a boy and life was a roller-coaster ride for both of us in our respective ways.

…..our schedule of “walking-together” was taken over by his packing, unpacking and repacking for tours and my time was divided precariously between job, children and household! My “tall dark and handsome” man started to show up the symptoms of “MNC Executives” by piling on weight on his straight and trim frame!!

All these years, even after trying very hard, we could not make even a 10-minutes stroll together (well, I firmly believe that there was lack of will from his side but could not ignore at the same time, the amount of stress and fatigue with so much of travelling).

Then the tragedy struck from a hidden corner and our world went into a spin one more time! But then, I do believe that everything happens for a reason if only we can see beyond the obvious. Just to take full advantage of the situation, I made it a point that my taking care of myself was fully contingent upon his taking care of himself and he must get me back my “tall, dark and handsome” man as soon as possible.    

An immediate visit was made to “Go Sports” to purchase track pants and tees, the walking shoes were taken out of the cupboard and dusted off and alarm was set at 5.30 am the next morning. My man has taken the challenge seriously even though, I would not be able to accompany him till end of July when my treatment would be over.

I am sure, we will enjoy very soon our “walking-together” time again by the sea shore with cool morning breeze sweeping past us and we would again be talking on so many things, relevant and irrelevant while sipping “low fat, no sugar” coffee occasionally.

All this while, I will be waiting eagerly to fall in love with the tall, dark and handsome man all over again who stole my heart away at the first instance 14 years ago.

Wish you all the best in your challenge my Big Man.

All of you, my lovely friends, you don’t need an excuse to steal some “walk-together” time with your loved one. Life does not wait for anyone – make the most of it while it is still yours. Stay healthy, stay happy and enjoy life!!!!

From my Pink Diary

Losing few kilos while being on a forced diet of fruits and lemon water is the sweetest side effect of chemotherapy….

I always hold a grudge against God that there has been unfair distribution of height to ladies in His world; otherwise why would ladies and girls like Shilpa Shetty, Anouska Sharma and Deepika Padukon have the pleasure of towering over others whereas ladies like me always have to stand in the front row while a group photograph is clicked! I always feel that I have been deprived of my right of standing tall physically in a crowd. The sensitive matter of ‘height’ became almost “over –sensitive” when my dad had to write 5’ 0” in matrimonial communications just to give an illusionary effect of being of average height like an average Bengali girl. Understandably, I am too sensitive to the magic word of “tall and slim”.

After I landed in Dubai, first few months were lazy rolls on the couch at home and endless hours of stroll in the malls. I was continuously on the search of keeping myself engaged meaningfully while enjoying my much-deserved break from life’s crazy run during the last few years. During the process of exploration, my observation gave me an insight that even though I could not do anything to increase my height at an age when the bones would not stretch length-wise but I could always reduce the ‘body mass’ to fit into the category of “slim and petit”. Just as I started wishing that there should be a health club around my residential locality, Studio Fitness opened its doors to countless enthusiasts like me. With little nudging from my husband, I entered into the world of “yoga, zumba and weight lifting” hoping each day that fitting into size 10 from size 14 would be only months away!!

Well, while I had been following the regimen religiously and few friends also commented that I looked more toned, I could not find much change myself and after relentless trials in the trial room of various stores in the malls, I could only fit into size 12 but getting into size 10 was a distant dream!!

…….after almost a year, I said “Quit”. Probably there was much more into reaching that dream of looking ‘slim and petit’.

Knowing me as not a quitter, my search on weight-loss secrets were on and I finally hit upon the conclusion that gym-run had to be in tandem with a ‘proper diet’. Another search began and almost all diet plans advised to stay away from ‘carbs’. I hit the first roadblock – being a die-hard Bengali, plateful of rice with fish curry is my biggest weakness and staying away from carbs was just IMPOSSIBLE for me!

 …..but dreams sometimes can be very persuasive! As if to give my dream the last push, Bodyworx opened just below my tower with a massive layout of machines, balance balls, kettle bells, treadmills, dance floors and what not! I could not resist the pull when I saw people thronging there and huffing and puffing on the machines and almost all of them fell in the category of “slim and fit”. I entered Bodyworx nervously one morning and was guided to a ‘personal trainer’ by the receptionist.

…… I set upon another journey towards attaining my dream of losing those stubborn kilos!

After some ‘critical calculation’, the trainer churned out that I should ideally weigh 55 kilos to go with my height and I was overweight by 9 kilos!! As regards the diet plan, when I mentioned my weakness on ‘rice’, he flashed a very pleasant smile and assured that I could eat my staple ‘rice with fish curry’ but only with slight change – “shift to brown rice from white rice”!!!

An immediate visit to the supermarket replaced the bags of India Gate Basmati Rice in my grocery cabinet with Tilda Long Grain Basmati Brown Rice with lots of protests from all members of the family. The taste of pristine white long grain India Gate Basmati rice was certainly too good to be compared with taste of brown rice of any brand and quality. After the initial protests subsided, we all made a conscious decision to shift to eating healthy and to our surprise, we all started liking the taste gradually.    

..... every month the weighing machine showed a little ‘shedding’ of those stubborn kilos and pushed me to go a little further in trying new techniques, machines and healthy diet!

Possibly seeing all these, God took pity on me and wanted the whole process of losing weight a little less effortless!

After the diagnosis, the finalization of the treatment plan and surgery, I had to say “Goodbye” to Bodyworx and to my wonderful personal trainer who was sure that I would come back after a short break and would start from where I left!! Thank you Sherwin that you showed this confidence in me as I hate to quit something which I started enjoying! I would go back, for sure…..

The chemotherapy started and suddenly without even realizing, I am on a forced diet of lots of fruits, lemon water, and soupy curry without even a hint of spice and WHITE RICE as these only suit my chemo-ridden taste buds. Every time, the nurse asks me stand on the weighing machine, the reading makes me very happy as it has been showing a steady decrease!! The last reading before the therapy session last week, the machine surprised me with a reading of “59.2” and I was elated.

……Voila! I am only 4 kilos away from the ideal weight that my trainer calculated and I am certain, that with three more sessions of therapy, the final reading is certainly going to show “55”.

The Therapy sessions and the associated side effects are not at all pleasant to bear with, but dreams do not always come true without pain and suffering, right? While approaching my dream of looking ‘slim and fit’, this much pain and suffering I will endure with a smile for sure!!!

 

From my Pink Diary......

Shopping is a therapy – whatever be the state of mind! When happy, it increases the happiness quotient and when depressed – it takes away some amount of gloom even though, temporarily!

Back home in India, I never had much opportunity to shop or window-shop in Great India Place in Noida or Shipra Mall in Ghaziabad or in Gurgaon, primarily because packing the kids in a Maruti 800 and driving across NCR region to malls was not at all safe for three of us given the awe-inspiring record of my driving skills and the hectic travel schedule of my poor husband seldom allowed us ‘we-four’ time. I was possibly the first one to gate-crash when the Ansal Plaza opened its doors for the less fortunate souls like me in Greater Noida and going there for a McD filet-o-fish and some fries on every Sunday was almost like a ritual for myself and my children!

….then I got transported to Dubai, the City of Malls and was awe-struck, figuratively and literally with their glamour, glory, glitter and glitz. As I wanted a break from my crazy schedule of managing home, kids, office, homework, school-run, a touring husband – for first few months in Dubai I was in a “tourist” mode and crisscrossed the city almost each day to some or the other mall to explore every square inch of the area. I became a veritable “yellow pages” as regards brands, shops, sale deals and offers available in the city!!

The initial excitement subsided and I got myself enrolled for a Master’s Degree in one of the Universities here. Once the studies were over, I somehow managed myself a 9 to 6 job; weekdays were hectic and weekends were reserved for lazing around and some ‘family time’. I was soon ordering grocery from “Trolley.ae” (an online grocery shopping website)! Just as I was exploring more about other on-line grocery shops for better deals, life threw a nasty twist at me …….. and I was again searching for ideas to keep myself engaged and entertained during the days I would be floating and during the days, I would be sinking too!!

On one such nights when the steroids were keeping me awake all night, a thought crossed my mind like a flash of light and in the next minute, I was sitting upright with my laptop open in front of me and I typed in Google search bar “On line Saree hopping from India”. Few sites popped up and after a thorough research, I started clicking on images of designer sarees from Mirraw.com. They deliver all over the world, and got few mails from satisfied customer to prove their claim for authenticity and genuineness!!

I am a thorough-bred Bengali and saree is one of my weaknesses – I love to buy them, I love to wear them and I love to store them neatly in numerous suitcases that I have at home (thanks to my husband’s travel requirements). By the time it was 4 am in the morning, I painstakingly checked images of 200 sarees on offer and chose few in my “wish list” – driving away the “sleeplessness and chemotherapy nausea”. Each time a saree caught my fancy, I divided the price in Indian rupees by 14.38 and reverse conversion from Indian Rupees to Dirhams was such a pleasant experience, now that I am a completely Dirham-adapted NRI! …and now the real dilemma….

…….is there any justification that I would suddenly splurge on such on-line shopping? Is there any occasion close by that I need to wear new saree? And something crossed my mind again in a flash – the indulging smile on my husband’s face before he left on a long tour,” Stay well and happy. Do whatever makes you happy”. During that moment, I was on an all- time-high on Happiness Parameter and all dilemmas vanished. I filled in my shopping cart with three sarees and two necklaces from the ‘costume jewellery’ section, typed in the credit card number and hit the button “Pay” with full force.

The day FedEx delivered a neatly sealed packet on door step, I broke into an instant “Zumba Zig” while my daughter watched me nervously and ran to her dad possibly to check if chemotherapy makes people behave ‘in a different way’ also! For the first time, my husband appreciated my choice and with that same indulging smile, said softly,” oh, beautiful! Why didn’t you order few more?”

I flashed an evil smile while arranging my ‘shopping haul’ in my wardrobe and said, “I have 4 more chemo sessions to go through, Mr. Ray! Just make sure there is enough balance in those ‘add-on’ credit cards” and exited the room.      

If I have said that I love sarees, then I am an ‘average-Indian woman’ and I love gold too! Was it a coincidence that the very auspicious ‘gold-buying’ day of Akshay Tritiya was around the corner and I never missed the date to buy some gold and invite prosperity! I considered it almost a conspiracy when I found the catalogues of Damas and Joyalukkas in the mailbox just on the day my husband returned from tour! I waited patiently for the right time and over an ‘awesome breakfast’ of Puri-aloo sabzi, the next morning, I spread out the designs in front of him.  

“But it’s not safe for you to go to a crowded place, my dear. I will take some time out from office and buy something for you”.

“Nooooo”, I croaked and almost tripped over the next chair and rush to hug him tightly. “We can always buy the gold before the real date. Damas will not be so crowded before Akshay Tritiya”, I cried out!

Wouldn’t it be a life-time loss if I did not get to see each design on display, hold them in my hand, check them for weight, strolling from counter to counter aimlessly and finally choosing whatever my husband suggested? A loving husband that he is, we were out on jewellery shopping the next day and came home with a big, flashy paper bag, very happy and satisfied with the real shopping complimenting my online shopping.

The joy and happiness of buying something is lost to a great extent if it is not approved by dear friends. During a community celebration a few days later, I wore a saree from my ‘online shopping’ collection while waiting eagerly for comments from my friends. When friends unanimously approved of my choice and my online shopping skills, I was ready for another night-long shopping spree anytime soon but sadly enough, the gold necklace could not be worn as the scarf covered part of my neck ( scarfs adore my bald head now that chemo therapy has claimed my crowning glory!)

The excitement of wearing a scarf and feeling like an Arab woman immediately died down when the joy of buying a beautiful ‘temple necklace’ from Damas could not be shared with my lovely friends! It was now time for shopping for a real-looking and fashionable wig. The lovely long tresses of mine was too much of a part of my identity and I could not bear the pain of seeing myself ‘bald and ugly’ in front of the mirror whatever the mirror might say!

…..thanks to a very dear friend, we took real long in terms of time and effort and a very chic, almost real-looking wig now has found a permanent place on my head and I got to flaunt a hairstyle with front fringes to everyone’s surprise!! I feel myself complete and beautiful and would be waiting for an opportunity to wear another saree from my collection, the temple necklace and the stylish wig!!

My wish-list in Mirraw.com is full and almost as a routine, I check the website for new arrivals just to keep me on top of it. On-line shopping has never been so much of fun and with some real shopping to compliment that, life is treating me pretty well, I must say……

Accept life as it comes and look beautiful, stay beautiful and feel beautiful, all my lovely friends!!

 

From my Pink Diary......

I am the only child of my parents but was part of a huge joint family and any special privilege or pampering as a single child was out of question on ethical grounds.
 
My father, fortunately or unfortunately, was the eldest son of the family and in true tradition of a joint family was the one who had the responsibility of running the huge family as a well-oiled machine. I am proud of the fact that he bore the responsibility with utmost sincerity, integrity and fairness till the last day that he was Head of the Family. By default, Ma also had to be equally participative in the whole affair and she was loyal to her duties as a wife and as the eldest daughter-in-law. As if, taking care of the well-being of 10/12 family members was not enough, she had a regular 10 to 4 job as a school teacher. Needless to say, she was perpetually over-burdened with so much that as a child, a very little of her time was in my share.
 
During my homework time, she never got the chance to sit with me ......there were 12 mouths to be fed and she used to enter into kitchen straight after coming back from school!

No one bothered to ask her but she possibly carried that guilt within her that she could not be around to help me when I needed her.....

As a mother now, till about few days ago, telling the same old “Jack and the bean stalk” or “Three little pigs” to my children during bed time was almost like a ritual and all three of us enjoyed that special 15 minutes so much! Recently, as a sign of growing up, the kids announced one day that now they would rather read a book and go off to sleep. I suddenly felt as if I was denied some of my motherly rights!

My mom never had time or opportunity to sit by my side and tell me a story during bed time. By the time, after feeding everybody and feeding herself, the kitchen was closed finally for the day, it used to be too late in the night for a child to stay awake. I learnt to fall asleep by myself without a story or lullaby. On certain days, I so wanted her to tell me the story of “Titanic”!

No one ever bothered to ask her but she possibly carried the guilt within her for not being able to kiss me “good night” before tucking me into bed….

During the years when I was growing up, I had so many secrets to share with her but we never got time to sit for some time all by ourselves and catching up. I fell in love with someone and I could not share the joy with her. I broke up with my boyfriend and I could not share the agony with her either. After many years, when I found love again, I was away in Delhi but being my mother, I believed she had the first right to know that her daughter had finally found a soul mate. She was ecstatic!

Nobody ever bothered to ask her but she possibly carried the guilt that she never had time to sit with her child during those growing-up years. As a mother, when my 11 year old daughter secretly shares with me all “gossips” of her class, we laugh together, worry together and think together! I now understand how much my mom missed being there for me to share some of those nonsensical gossips!

Time flies and I was on my way to motherhood for the first time! As per tradition, she wanted to plan an elaborate “sadh” (a typical Bengali ritual where mothers cook everything that the pregnant daughter craves for). As she always missed so many things, she could not travel to Delhi for some family reason and I was not allowed to travel either! She had no option but to miss the opportunity as she had always done! Being a dutiful daughter-in-law was not that easy, I suppose!

No one bothered to ask her but she still regrets that she could not organize “sadh” for her only child while she has done it for few of other parental cousins of mine!

Around the time my daughter was to be born, she wanted to make sure that she could be around. She wanted that so desperately that she decided to retire voluntarily and put in her resignation! This time around it was turn of the Ministry of Education to act as the villain who did not accept her resignation as there was shortage of teachers. She could only be around with me and the new-born baby for a month and cried inconsolably while leaving her first and very precious granddaughter in my novice hands!

She still regrets that she could not be there with me during the time I needed her most……

…and then it was time again to bring a sibling for our daughter and I was on my way to motherhood for the second time. Again, as my mother, she had the right to know it first and she persuaded her case with the Ministry frantically! Her resignation was accepted and she was relieved from duty but not before serving 3 more months as she had availed medical and other leaves more than what was due during her long stint (so much over-work already had started taking a toll on her health)! She could only be with me for a month during the birth of my son! She felt miserable leaving me with a two year old and a new born baby and cursed her luck all along for being such an unfortunate mother who never could be with her child during her hours of need ……

Finally, her days of 10 to 4 job was over and on my insistence, the joint family was disintegrated amicably! As their child, I wanted desperately that my parents be freed from the shackles of duties and responsibilities and live life on their own terms. They have been doing that ever since…..

Then came the news, almost as a bolt from the blue, that my name has been added to the list of countless other ladies who are battling or have battled breast cancer! This time, she did not have to wait for anyone’s approval, within the family or outside and they flew to Dubai as soon as possible.

The other day as she was performing her morning “puja”, in between sobs she said, “I have been asking Ma Durga all these days, why She had to choose you and not me” (We all are loyal devotees of Ma Durga and She has never let us down so far)

I hugged her and said, “Ma, all your life, you have fulfilled all your duties and you are a satisfied soul on that count. You only had regrets that you could not take care of your child the way you wanted to even though, to me, you are the best mother ever. Now Ma Durga has given you a chance to take care of your child and possibly, I need you the most this time around. Ma Durga wants you to leave this world as a happy and satisfied mother. So do whatever you feel like and take care of your child. So what if am 45 years old now? I am still your child”.

She wiped her tears, got up on her feet and said, “Yesterday, you wanted to eat some ‘chorchori’ (Bengali style mixed vegetable), I will send baba downstairs to buy some vegetables”. She churned out the best chorchori from whatever vegetables she could get!

Ever since, she has arrived, she has taken charge of the kitchen; she makes sure that I drink and eat well; she makes sure that I go out to walk with her in the morning and afternoon and she possibly is the happiest mother now even though, she never had imagined for this day in her wildest nightmares.

I am also a great fan of Ma Durga and my faith in Her is unshakable whatever the test be. All this while, I was trying to find a purpose behind subjecting us to these trying times. As always, I have not, for once, question Her, “why me?” Today, I found my answer that actually Ma Durga wanted to return favor to one of her most loyal devotee that is my mother……

……that now she could finally be with her child during her hours of need and I thank Ma Durga for allowing us this privilege to spend some time with Mom and sharing all the gossips that I could not till breast cancer gave us a chance!

 

From my Pink Diary......

Staying beautiful and looking pretty is a costly proposition as I have realized that here in Dubai. The ambience inside the cosmetic stores is very alluring and they have ‘something in offer’ to fix any flaw, imaginable or not-imaginable! …..but the price tags that these beauty products carry , are scary enough to drive away the faint-hearted from the display counters in those cosmetics superstores in the malls.

Back home in India, life was a roller-coaster ride almost all the time! Managing two little kids, a regular 9 to 5 job, a husband who spent more time in airport lounges than at home and a battery of part-time maids who will turn up for work on their whims and fancies, was not an easy task by any means. I did have only 10 minutes time every day to stand in front of the mirror to dab some variety of cream, tie my long hair into a plait before rushing to the rickshaw to the workplace. Counting fine lines on the face and crow’s feet around the eyes were last in my priorities! To make things worse, the husband only has a heart to love me but not eyes to tell me that I was aging (or may be, he loves me so much that he did not want to break my heart).

Things suddenly changed once we moved in to Dubai. As I wanted since long to take a break from work and study again, the dream finally found its way to reality and I became a student for 2 years in a University here. The most relieving factor was that I found a full time domestic help and suddenly there was plenty of time in between university runs, school runs and mall hopping. With those extra hours in hand and a longer time in front of the mirror, I was heart-broken to discover those dreaded fine lines and crow’s feet in plenty! Secretly, I started my search for ‘something’ to cover those flaws – the perfect day cream that would give a ‘natural glow’ and the super-perfect night cream that would rejuvenate the skin all night and I would look like a fresh daisy in the morning!!

For a novice, to find out something suitable for my “skin tone and type” (how on earth to find that out?), was extra difficult looking at the sheer range and variety of products that are available! The beauty page of weekly Friday Magazine turned out to be my favorite read very soon as I tried to gain knowledge on the subject from whatever the Beauty Editor wrote! I ventured out one day to “Areej” all by myself with bagful of knowledge on “foundation, eye shadow, concealer, blusher” and secretly hoped that I would surprise my husband with my ‘subtly made up’ look when he would come back from tour after few days!

Even though, I was well prepared with knowledge on those cosmetics, I was least prepared for the ‘financial shock’ that my poor husband would have to endure in case I chose to buy something from those ‘high end’ cosmetics brand.. Fresh from India, I was still reeling under the shock of “rupee-dirham” mismatch and was yet to adapt to the “dirham” mindset while buying anything anywhere here in Dubai. I walked inside the cosmetics shop almost few kilometers, stood in front of each display counter of each brand and in my mind, multiplied the dirhams by 12 , countless number of times! Exhausted with the walk and shocking revelation, bought myself a cup of coffee and a “Garnier” face wash only to justify the taxi fare that I had to shell out.

…..but the change of mindset was inevitable and I grew out of the conversion misnomer pretty soon as my husband was on a mission to educate me on this economic phenomenon. Finally I learnt to buy things without comparing how much it would have cost me in India and my wardrobe got few fashionable clothes and there were accumulation of beauty products of decent variety on the dressing table.

But there still was another side to this story of “looking beautiful”! I was not clear whether the foundation should be applied under the moisturiser or over, the blush-on should be a ‘dab’ or ‘dash’ or the bronzing powder should be applied parallel to the jaw line or on the apple of cheek! The confusions were plenty and I did not know who to ask such technical questions!! Shedding all inhibitions, I opened my heart to my only savior, my dear husband! An indulgent husband that he is, he took me out the other day to Marina Mall, called one of those ‘ever smiling and pretty’  sales girl and asked her to give me a makeover! After those precious 10 minutes under her care, I could not recognize myself in the mirror – actually glowing like a fresh daisy!!!

 The husband picked up everything that the girl recommended and warned me not to come in front of the “cashier’s counter”. After 13 years of staying together, he knew pretty well that if the price tags catch my eye, I will pull him out of the shop immediately! He was the happiest man on that day – after all, husbands also want their wives to stay beautiful and look pretty!

And now when I was thinking of finding an opportunity to show my ‘flawlessly made up’ look to my lovely friends, the doctor dropped the bomb while the chemo session was on….

“Minakshi, you will feel dryness of skin too much while the treatment is on but stay away from the chemicals as much as you can”

I was almost in tears! So do I have to use coconut oil, the only natural moisturiser that I know of and smell like a coconut all the time? And I cannot use the Dior Glow Compact Powder, the Clarins BB Cream, and L’Oreal’s Red Velvet lipstick on the Naboborsho celebration of our FFS club? My big man looked at me indulgingly and said “you can use it occasionally while the treatment is on but you can buy L’Occitane products as many as you want, they are plant-based and free of chemicals”. By the way, I discovered the treasure of L’Occitane product long ago but only use the face cream and body cream. Again, the prices pull me back from buying anything else from them even after lot of pursuation from my husband.   

Now that it is time for overhaul and I am being persistently nagged to give him a chance to pamper me, I also feel it is time to spruce up my cosmetics cabinet with all things ‘natural’ and I should give him a free run!

It is a costly proposition but overhauling of a machine with such well ‘wear and tear’ ought to be a costly proposition, right friends?

Stay beautiful and happy, always, my lovely friends…..

From my Pink Diary......

My family does not exactly live by the principle of “healthy eating”, especially when it comes to the daily dose of fruit intake. The husband and son, on occasions, stray too much on the other side of the fence as they are “self-proclaimed” keeper of the tradition of “Mughlai Cuisine and had there been ways, they would have been living on biryani, bihari kebabs and chicken boti roll! The father-son duo is a veritable “yellow page directory” in case anyone wants some suggestions on authentic “biryani joint”. Just to balance the spice for the family, the daughter can eat “chocolate” as starter, main course and dessert, day in and day out! Considering that we are a family of four, I am the lone crusader in the household who always cribs about unhealthy eating habits of the children and husband.

Having said that, I do not have the heart to claim that I start my day with munching on an apple! As a matter of fact, even though, I like my daily diet to be less spicy and simple, fruits have never been on my list of “priorities” to be included in my daily dose of nutrients. Not exactly knowing our preferences for fruit or food, the Relocation Agent of ours purchased a lovely fruit basket for us when we moved in to Dubai and we have been using that basket for keeping our phone chargers, i-pad chargers, laptop chargers, subway coupons etc. for the last three years!!

……and suddenly the wind changed direction! After the first session of chemo-therapy, I have practically been living on a diet of fruits and lemon water as the taste buds have undergone an overhaul, I suppose!! The fruit basket has been emptied off and being used for the right purpose for the last one week and to my surprise, the daughter snacked on a sweet orange last evening and the son packed an apple for himself for small break in school today!!

I am in hurry to pack off as much as possible for the kids till the ‘good time’ lasts and am sure, if the status quo continues, my dream of getting an ‘enviably fit and trim body’ will be fulfilled any time soon!!!

……let me make the most of it when the wind has changed direction……

……but then, Chemo-therapy is not only about fruity flavor all along! As the doctor advised that I am allowed to eat anything which gives me comfort and strength, he exactly did not give us an exhaustive list but it was rather an inclusive list. Hence, occasional ‘home delivery’ of NKD pizza, McDonald’s burgers and blueberry muffins are my ‘fundamental right’ now. As children and husband take the liberty of eating out too much, we agreed on an agreement of not to eat junk food except rarely and we so far maintained that line of control even though not without lots of grumble and mumble from all three of them.

…..now the wind has suddenly changed direction and I was craving for some ‘healthy pizza with lots of veggies’ from NKD last evening! The kids got immediately active, the menu card was fished out from the drawer and we chose our respective ‘healthy’ pizza’. They could not possibly believe their ears that their “no junk food” Ma wanted to eat pizza. While we were at it, as if to make the most of the ‘junk food days’, the son suggested that I might like McD also (the spicy one with some fries!) and to my horror, I have been searching for the delivery menu of McD’s this morning!!!

…..the children are in hurry to make the most of it, when the wind has changed direction!

Have a happy and healthy day, friends ……

From my Pink Diary.......

It is a gloomy day outside but I have plenty of sunshine inside my house!

The kids insisted that I must give them packed lunch from home as they love food cooked by their Ma. Even though physically I am not in the ‘fit state’ currently and the “side effects of chemo therapy” try hard to pull me into the vortex, the kids always get the best out of their mom. I had no option but to pull myself out of my lethargy and we sat down to decide on the menu!!

Settling down to a common menu is the most crucial part of the whole thing as the taste buds of my kids are inclined to different directions – the son swears by anything ‘spicy’  and the daughter practically lives on ‘sweet’. After much deliberation and with due consideration to my health status, we froze the menu to “sandwich with baked sliced potato and juice for break, chicken fried rice with crumbled fried egg for lunch and banana for dessert”. We went off to sleep with a firm instruction from both of them that they would assist me in the kitchen in the morning and the alarm was set at 5.45 am in the morning.

As the alarm went off, I could see them springing up on their feet, out of bed (what a surprise!!) and I was shaken gently,” Ma, it’s time to get up.” With two deputies by my side, who seldom see eye to eye to each other, the kitchen turned into a battle ground within minutes – we forgot to decide what vegetables and spices should go into the chicken fried rice, the previous night!!

We chopped garlic and discarded (it smells garlicky when she opens the lunchbox), we chopped onion and discarded (he does not particularly like to chew on onion in between chicken pieces), we chopped capsicum and discarded (both do not like the slight bitterness in them) and finally could put some chopped carrots in the hot oil in the wok!

……and moment I mentioned to add some sauces , the sonny pushed me aside and pulled down 5 of the sauce bottles from the cupboard in a blink and churned out a deadly looking concoction as if he has been training in a culinary school for ages while me and the daughter ,watched him in bewilderment. Just to drive out my fear, he put a spoonful in his mouth and immediately spit it out almost on his sister. Her expert comment was not far from her lips,” Ma, dare not add it to the fried rice. The sauce looks like weird kind of blood but even the vampires would refuse to drink it” and hid behind me to save herself from her brother’s ire. We lost precious 15 minutes by that time from our schedule and I had to finally pull out the ultimate from my armory….

“Babies, why don’t you watch TV for 10 minutes and let me concentrate on your lunch pack. Otherwise, you have to eat from the cafeteria”. Before I could even finish my sentence, the title song of “Hey Jessie” was on full blast on the TV screen!! This trick never failed so far!! I finally got the kitchen under my control!!!!

By the time, they were ready with brush, bath and uniform, smelling nice and looking fresh, I somehow managed to hand them over their lunch pack and give them a peck on their cheeks as barely there was time for an elaborate “have a good day, babies”. They left home happy and satisfied but not before reminding me my day’s tasks:

“Momsickle (my daughter calls me lovingly), don’t forget to take your medicines on time and eat and drink as much as you can. “

“Don’t forget to carry the card for the doc when you go to the hospital today (they prepared a card for my doc as a token of their gratitude that he has taken care of their mum)”

“Dada and Didi (their grandparents), please make sure that you take her out for a walk in the morning as doc said”

“Please do not forget to inform Popsickle once you are back from the hospital”

…….and finally, “Love you Ma” and the lift door opened.

I was thoroughly exhausted with this one hour ordeal as it was time for the “chemo medicines” to get the worst out of me but I am ready for the day till the time they come back home, hug me and turn the house upside down again before kissing me good night!

I must make the most out of my “pink days” as I am now allowed to eat anything without looking into how much calories I am packing, I am allowed to use my time in any which way I wish to and I can dump myself onto the sofa whenever I feel like as I know the rest will be taken care of by my Ma in the kitchen!!

Have a lovely and healthy day, friends……..

 

Breast Cancer - it took some but gave me much more!

So many times I mentioned jokingly to my husband that I would like to die of some “high profile” disease and to my utter surprise, the wish was partially granted recently! I say partially because in these days with so much of advancement in medical science, hardly any one dies out of a high profile disease like “breast cancer”!!

Having said that, since there is still not enough proof that medical science has been able to invent a cure for the disease “cancer” of any form; phone calls, smses,  bbm messages etc. started pouring in from all places. The most difficult part was to disclose the news to parents and Ma-in-law (Do parents really follow logic, statistics or rationale when their child falls sick?)

……and a period of trial and tribulation started.

I agree that it would not be counted as a blessing to have been diagnosed with breast cancer but it was certainly an occasion to revalidate the strength of so many relationships that I share with so many people around me .....

Even though there was no doubt that the small world of my husband and my children revolve around me, it is quite evident from their acts and gestures, that their world has been hit by massive turbulence, whether they show it on their faces or not.

The two angels and the “big man” have suddenly grown up to give me constant reassurance and feeling of relief that they will be able to take care of themselves when I will not be “too well to take care of them”.

The parents and Ma-in-law are probably bleeding from inside but they are trying real hard to put up a brave front so I do not fall short of courage and strength.

My girls’ gang from (my very own) Greater Noida is extremely worried and concerned for the well- being of their group’s most humorous member! They have always stood by me whenever I needed any support from any one of them - when I used to struggle with two small kids, a job and an always-on-tour husband. This time around, they are doing their best in terms of sending their best wishes and prayers and are continuously in touch with me as if to compensate for the fact that they could not be here to be with me during this slightly difficult time!

During these three years of stay in Dubai, we have been fortunate enough to know few wonderful souls, our guardian angels– my Fatafati friends. Each one of them extended their support in whatever way we required and notwithstanding their daily routine of “wear and tear”, they have almost built a safety ring around me and all are on a “phone call away” for anything at any time!

Even though at the start slightly unwillingly and by default, one fine evening I happened to meet few “malt men and their lovely wives” and after three get-togethers, I completely fell in love with each one of them. My bunch of adorable malt men and the lovely ladies are praying for me with their fingers crossed and as expected, are on “high alert “ , just in case we need them …….

My JBR bestie is reliving the agonizing days when she had to lose her dad to cancer few years ago, ever since I mentioned this to her and she will be agonizingly waiting for me to come home strong and healthy from the hospital.

A nephew in faraway America sends his best wishes and asserts that everything will be fine and friends from Sydney, Kolkata and Mumbai have already done their bit of research just to convince me that it is not life-threatening!

So what if we have met only few times, but Benu did not forget to call and wish me luck and speedy recovery before proceeding to Kolkata for a few days!

Although I was a brand new employee of an organization here, Tracy (HR Head) and Salman (Finance Director) found time from their “busy as crazy” schedule to check with me every alternate day as to how I have been coping with this “menace” and extended support which I did not expect and hope for.

Could there be anything as assuring and overwhelming when the two of them unanimously declared that the door of that office would always remain open for me!!

Prayers have the strength to move mountains and when so many of these wonderful souls have been praying for me , I am more than convinced that I am well protected by these God’s angels . I only do not understand how and when I acquired so many precious gems in my life’s journey.

If I survive (I know for sure, I will), it will be my second-life as had it been detected at a later stage, I would have been counting my days, by now and I owe my second life to each one of you !

Not for once, did I complain and ask my favorite goddess, “why me?”. Do I have enough ground to complain when I am actually blessed to have these people around me? Aren’t these the real wealth, we hope to accumulate in our respective lives?

I consider myself truly blessed and fortunate and will bear this little pain as a side effect of being so wealthy.

As if, all these were not enough, God has been kind enough to identify a handsome surgeon too!! After a trip to the parlor this afternoon, I am ready for the D-day with shining skin, a pedicure and manicure! Seldom do we get a second chance to impress, right?

Hence, I promise to all my FFS friends that I will be back soon and will continue to remain the Finance Controller for many more Durga pujas, Lakshmi pujas, Diwali and Saraswati pujas ….

I promise, on behalf of FFS, to Benu that he will be the permanent “purohit” for all FFS pujas and we will celebrate to formalize the agreement once he comes back from Kolkata…..

I promise to Ma-baba and the other Ma, that no matter how far we are from each other, I will be by your side when you need me…. 

I promise to my gang of girls in Greater Noida that I will come to see you all in July/August and will re-live the laughter filled days…..

I promise to Bumba, Indrani and Surabhi that I will be alright soon and will plan to meet when destiny permits….

I promise to Sanjukta that we will again meet for our coffee mornings and will pour our heart out to each other…..

I promise to my malt men and the ladies that I will be back for the next get-together, all decked- up and Tabarak must make pegs of Margarita for me (I am addicted to that, I must confess) and I intend to be the bargirl for the next Malt sessions.

I promise to Dubari that I must come to her city for few days and will go back to our working-women hostel day…..

I promise to Tracy and Salman that once I am back on my feet, I will join in any project that you wish me to contribute, notwithstanding my qualification and experience. ……and Sahrish, I will be back soon to share those loud laughs and plenty of gossip in that special cabin of AR…..

…..and I finally promise to my husband and children that I will control your lives till my last breath, whether you like it or not (escape from that seems difficult!)

Amidst all chaos around our lives now, I became aunt of a gorgeous boy called Krishnaditya Bose-Nandy and I am little sad that I have to wait for some days before I could hold him and kiss him!

Thank you each one of you for making me battle-ready and I already see a winner in me. Probirda, the Iron-lady is ready!!!