Description

"We are two wrongs that make a right." - The Wife

Recently made mixed CD had the following songs:

1. Rehab - Amy Winehouse
2. All I want is you - Barry Louis Polisar
3. Falling Slowly
4. Billy Jean - M. Jackson
5. All I need is a friend - W. Nelson
6. Delirious Love - N. Diamond.

This Is The Blog Of Your Life

The Lakers win!! The Lakers Win! The Lakers Win. The Lakers Win ?


Do you remember yourself ten years ago. I was an avid Lakers fan. My friends, were my friends from forever. I was 23. In the summer of 1998, I had still not met my wife. And I have assured her that that was not a good thing for her. She would have hated me. Wrong place wright time. That extra "W" - intentional.

I am reading a book that reflects heavy on history and the people you have come from. I have tried to deny it. That I was more...different...better. But I carry their legacy around with me. I can not separate myself from the past. which is fixed, and attempt to create a better me, which despite my beliefs in not maleable.

Just 10 years ago. I weighed less. I was less confident. I was unsure. I was certain. I was loyal. I questioned my loyalty. I was fucked over. I never forgave.

This is literally blog rambling.

I Need to Write

Where to begin. This is a rant/rave, I dont know. I went out for trivia. The conversation went beyond. AllI remember was wanting to write after I heard the U2 version of Everlasting Love:


Open up your eyes
Then you realize
Here I stand with my
Everlasting love
Need you by my side
There's no need to hide
Never be denied
Everlasting love
From the very start
Open up your heart



I heard that song tonight and all I thought of was my wife. Bean you may one day read the rants of your father, including all of my imperfections. Today you learned so much including your first Marathi word (Pani -water). you learned the word bubble. And go. And we laughed, you and me, like we were friends.

We got your first haircut today. You were great, no trouble no fuss. Till the end. You look like an adult. One day you will realize or read far enought to see that this blog isnt about you, but a long letter from me to your mother.

The haircut looks great

There Will Be Blood

Shaan had his first bleeding incident the other day. It happened as follows. I was sitting on the couch. He pulled himself u, between my legs looking at me. then something distracted him. And me. He turned, got tangled and fell face first into a plastic car on the floor. Blood gushing. Baby crying. Dad panicking.

At first I thought he may have jarred a tooth loose. I tried to find a popsicle to stick in his mouth - none. So I found a teether that we keep in the freezer. Jammed it right in there. Still crying. He sucked on it for about minute and a half. Done crying. Smiling in fact. Put him down and he went back to playing. He bled a little on my favorite UC Santa Barbara sweatshirt. I vowed never to wash it again, as a reminder of the time time I failed my child and he bled for the first time. My wife went and washed it. Now all I have is the horrible image of my boy doing a face plant and then his mouth and teeth covered in blood.

Oh, it wasnt the gums ot teeth at all. He cut both his bottom and top lips. He is fine. I am fine. There will certainly be more of that. Life is no fun if you dont get the occassional bruise, bump and cut.

My wife turns 30 tomorrow. I keep joking with her that I cant believe I am dating a 30 year old. The thing is, that it really isnt old, its just fun to make fun of it. We are going to DC for the weekend. Got a swanky little hotel in the city. No baby. Joy, what joy.

I'm Fucking Tired

I'm mentally tired. I'm physically tired. Who isn't?

Here's the part that is inconsistent. I'm happy. The boy is very happy. I'm trying to do my best to keep da baby mommy happy.

I envied the dog the other day. And not for the reason you might think. I envied him because he had his balls chopped off and couldn't have little versions of himself. His life was all about his personal needs. His balls-less needs. Eating, shitting and sleeping.

Abrupt subject shift. Book and movie reviews. My current reading materiel is Fathers and Sons, but Ivan Turgenev. Fantastic. If you are a father, or a son that is past high school, I recommend this book. I saw myself in one character, but I never realized the impact. McCarthy's The Road. Coen brothers No Country for Old Men, based on McCarthy's novel. Since finishing W&P, my reads have included amongst others Shantaram (lovely, especially if you are a Maha from Mumbai) . I missed bombay after reading this book, in more sense than one.

Wife, if you read this, you are almost 30. Old lady.

Shaan, you can not read, but today, you stood up on your own without support. You pushed off from a free object and held yourself up. I was a proud father. You looked confident and determined. Your legs were strong. You composed yourself. You balanced. You held steady for about 10 seconds. Then you fell. Tumbling to the ground in a heap of wild arm movements. Then you did the best thing. You stopped. Composed yourself. Looked left. Looked right. Got your bearings. Shook it off and stood right back up again. Then you fell again. And you stood right back up again.

I still dont have the words to describe when I am around you. I know the role and personality I play when I am away from you. When I see you, I see the fortuitous combination of your mother and I. You are a lucky man-boy-child.

An Ode to the Boy

An Ode of the Boy. Yes this one.

Where did all the hair go?

Where did all the hair come from?

Why can't you walk by the age of one? Maybe two?

"Because I dont fucking want to!"

What the fuck is an ode?

Finit

Time passes so quickly. the boy turned one. Two parties - well documented. We spend all day together, its as if I am living the life someone else wanted. The wife wants my life. Hey that rhymes. I want hers. Its funny sometimes how you get what someone else wants. They crave your life, when all you want is to escape from it like a butterfly from the cocoon.

We made a trip to L.A. Home. But not so much anymore. Just because something is familiar does not make it home. I love it there, but the Burgh has become my home.

My fifth year anniversary is coming up. 5 years. Got a trip planned. St. Thomas. 4 days, 3 nights, too many cocktails, one bed and breakfast and zero kids. I love the boy but we all need a break.

The wife turns thirty (30) at the end of the month. The joke I keep using is that I can't believe I am dating a 30-year old. I met her when she was 21. She missed out on her twenties to hang out with me. Sucker.

Baby updates: He now has 8 teeth. 4 top and 4 bottom - all in the front of the mouth. He is crawling like a champ, but still can not walk. He walks holding one's hands. He's happy. Despite the asthama and the strep and the weather. He really is happy. He's tall and skinny. The exact opposite of his old man.

A few end of the blog shout outs. Are the kids still using that term in 2008. I hope so. My sister in law. She quit her job, has a baby - we hang out, eat bon bons and gossip. Fan-fucking-tastic. Jiswell, the brother in law. I hate the burgh, but sometimes, its the exact opposite. Thanks for showing off that part. Udi. All this is for you. Bean. I may have failed, but I tried and will keep on going.

Honesty

How hard is it to be honest with yourself. To see yourself as others do. I looked at my feet today and didnt recognize them, I saw my son's.

Since moving to Pittsburgh, I dont seem to see myself anymore. Having said that, I wonder if I ever have. With all the time and energy I have invested in my son, what if I fail him as a father. What if I already have. How much am I a reflection of what I want others to see? How much of a relfection of what I want to see? Sometimes I think, I couldnt be happier, other times, I wonder how much longer till the nervous break down. How is that right? How is that possible?

Post Script to the Last Entry

There were a few things I forgot to mention that have happened in the last four months. Since this is a journal for the boy, I figure it is stuff that he would find interesting, quirky and informative.

His first words in the following order: Ball, Attack, Dog. An explantion for "attack:" Every morning after he wakes up and the changing is done, I take him to a full length mirror in the guest bathroom. He of course looks at himself and then me and then smiles. Everytime he has seen his reflection, since about the age of 4 months or so, I say "Attack!". I of course am hoping that he will go afte rhis reflection. When someone asked me why I did that after he actually started saying "Attaaaa," having nothing to really say, I came up with the idea that it was old zen warrior technique, where the warrior must first defeat the enemy within and then would be able to defeat any other enemies. Sounds like all the other bullshit I have spewed in my life.

He has teeth. They started coming about 2 months ago. First he got the bottom two teeth. Then something strange happened. The next two were the top incisors. And that is all that he has. They look like fangs. It is fantastic. This coupled with the attack thing - the boy has made me proudest dad in the entire world and he isn't even a year old.

Shaan lost his last remaining great grand parent (the only one whose life overlapped with his) in August. My mother's mother passed away in India after a long illness and bouts of memory loss and vertigo. I wonder if she even was aware that she had another great grand child at the time of passing (total 5 at the time of her death). More so I wonder if Shaan will ever fully comprehend that without her, he wouldn't be.