Birth Song

Yesterday, birthday wishes started pouring in for Era from India. Her birthday is today the 24th, but I realized that it was already 24th in India. But because I was still a solid 12 hours behind schedule here in Berkeley, I was taken back to the night of  the 23rd ,three years ago...( cue in the shivers..)

In my last trimester I had been asked multiple times to complete my 'Birth plan' and submit it to my Gynecologist.  All the questions in the Birth plan were very confusing, intimidating and I was tempted to hire someone who had been through the actual process of giving birth to come and fill out my birth plan for me. When I researched online, the articles I read were pretty stressful. To give you a fair context, I had stopped reading news since my first trimester because the state of the world I was bringing a new baby into was very disturbing to me. So the stories of things gone wrong during labor were kind of dampening the sweet bubble I was living in.
But the writing of my birth plan led me to the selection of a birth song for Era's actual entry into the world.
Needless to say , when it was crunch time the birth plan I had written was thrown out of the window- Era had a more dramatic plan to make her entry and we just went along with it. Though she heard that song on repeat inside my womb, her birth song was not actually played at her entry or even in the first two days while we scrambled to learn her new ways.  With her birth a new 'Era' in our life had begun!
The birth song would have remained a mere entry on our birth plan but for the new born screening. When Era's heel was pricked to collect her blood sample for newborn screening, she wouldn't calm down. Swaddling, cuddling, feeding, passed from nurse to me to Ajji to Dad, this passing -the-screaming-infant , continued until Nikit unconsciously started swaying and singing the song and slowly she calmed down. She found her familiar tune and settled down.
We performed this 'musical trio treat' for the nurses many times in our five day hospital stay.  They ohhed and ahhed about the song. An Ethiopian nurse and a Hawaian nurse asked us for the details of the song because, "it had grown on them"...
The song that grew on them, on us and on Era is , 'आ चल के तुझे मै लेके चलू ...'. This song composed,written and sung by Kishore Kumar from the movie  'दूर गगन के छाँव मै.. is a true Utopian fantasy, but  I think it is the ultimate, in the kind of idealism that new parents have for the world that they want to create for their offspring. We selected it at a time when it fit perfectly into my sweet bubble of keeping the real world at bay.  But even in the real world, I am glad that we choose this song of hope for my daughter.  As she grows up she will realize that the world is not as  poetic , dreamy and friendly as the song portrays. In her short three years she has already seen that not everyone will respond  or reciprocate to her happy child persona or her friendliness. But I am glad that she will have the music and the idealistic words of this song as part of her intrinsic rhythm and conditioning! Spunk, resilience, strength: they will follow in the years to come...
For now, this unbroken sense of peace, unity and harmony is our gift to her !

आ चल के तुझे, मैं ले के चलूं

इक ऐसे गगन के तले

जहाँ ग़म भी न हो, आँसू भी न हो

बस प्यार ही प्यार पले

इक ऐसे गगन के तले

Come let me take you to this land,

where under the blue skies,

there is no room for sorrows, no tears,

Only Love blooms and resides,

Under those skies.

सूरज की पहली किरण से, आशा का सवेरा जागे – 2

चंदा की किरण से धुल कर, घनघोर अंधेरा भागे – 2

कभी धूप खिले कभी छाँव मिले

लम्बी सी डगर न खले

जहाँ ग़म भी नो हो, आँसू भी न हो…

बस प्यार ही प्यार पले

The first rays of the sun bring in a hopeful dawn,

The  first rays of the moon wash away the deep dark gloom,

At times the glare is too bright, sometimes there is shade, no light,

But the path meanders,the journey continues..

Where there is no room for sorrows, no tears..

Only Love blooms and resides...

जहाँ दूर नज़र दौड़ आए, आज़ाद गगन लहराए

जहाँ रंग बिरंगे पंछी, आशा का संदेसा लाएं – 2

सपनो मे पली हँसती हो कली

जहाँ शाम सुहानी ढले

जहाँ ग़म भी न हो, आँसू भी न हो…

बस प्यार ही प्यार पले

Deep on the horizon,  as far as the eye can see, lives a free land..

Birds of color with rainbow plumes; messages of hope they sing.. 

Smile, my tender bud, I brought you up with my dreams

In that faraway land of golden evenings and twilight

Where there is no room for sorrows, no tears..

Only Love blooms and resides...

सपनो के ऐसे जहाँ में,जहाँ प्यार ही प्यार खिला हो,

हम जाके वहाँ खो जाये , शिकवा न कोई गिला हो ,

कही बैर न हो , कोई गैर न हो , सब मिलके यूँ मिलते चले ..

जहा गम भी न हो , आसू भी न हो ,

बस प्यार ही प्यार पले.

In Utopia, my land of dreams, where love has embraced all,

Lets just reach and get lost in its valleys; We will be a clean slate,no baggage of the past.

There are no boundaries, no aliens, we are united as we walk forward,

To a land where there is no room for sorrows, no tears..

Only love blooms and resides...

x

Nourishment for a Nursing Mother

Women are often told that giving birth is akin to a rebirth for the mother too. All that I remember from my entire birthing process are the intense hunger pangs; as if besides the baby, another deep pit had opened up in my stomach.  As I channeled all the reserves of energy in my body to face the excruciating labor pains, pains that I had never experienced before and which anecdotal wisdom hadn't prepared me enough to combat, I craved for the nutritional support that comfort food would bestow on my weary body. But that nutritional support was far beyond my reach. It's a medical necessity that thousands of women face in the maternity ward, its rational , scientifically proven but it doesn't satisfy the mental self that is just as much at play in the labor room as our physical bodies. In the two days of labor I developed a special hatred for veg broth and clear jelly- and I am sure there are other new mothers who would join my hate club. I thought that it was a 'emperors new clothes' kind of trick played on me; these two 'items' pretended to be food but they were provided just to trick me into thinking that I was getting nutrition for the body that I was pushing to its limit! I was in a terrible state, I was dry heaving and at times throwing up the broth too- but I craved for the simple ghee-Dal Chaval ( Waran Bhaat made in Maharashtrian homes) no pickle, spicy potatoes, coriander-mint-coconut chutney, even a khichari  would have given me a nurturing warmth from within, when  everywhere else the body was experiencing the sharp stabs of pain. But that wasn't meant to be. I couldn't eat for a full, solid twenty four hours, which to me felt like three or four days. Being thrown under the bus and then using the leftovers to mop the floor, that's what the body felt like. I had never experienced that kind of mind numbing fatigue, bone-tired weariness- it seemed like a bottomless pit I wouldn't be able to summit out of . And then... they placed this tiny helpless baby with a rosebud mouth on my chest... And the dog tired body produced the liquid gold elixir for this new human being... That's when I realized why the birthing process was akin to a rebirth of the mother too..

Because so much of my birthing memories are food related, it's easy for me to remember the first meal after my rebirth. My mother had bought  Dal-methi and Rice to the hospital. The rice was cooked with Cumin, asafoetida and two-three whole black peppercorns so that it wouldn't irritate the fragile digestive system. The Dal-Methi was cooked in coconut milk to aid the milk production and milk flow. To complete the taste palette there was a small Aaliv/ watercress seeds Ladoo made with Gud, coconut and ghee.  Belly full, satiated with comfort food, I embarked on the journey of nourishing my daughter.

In the last three years, I have had the opportunity to recreate this experience for a couple of my friends in the United States. Two of these friends were prescribed Methi/ Fenugreek tablets by Doctors and midwives to help lactation but they gladly chose to try it in the food format, hoping it would be more nourishing. I enthusiastically cooked for them and shared my mother's recipe. I got the opportunity again last week to cook a whole meal for my neighbor. She has just given birth to a baby boy a month ago. Her mother stayed with her for a few days before the delivery and three four days after the baby's birth.  Her in -laws will arrive a couple of months later to help them with the baby. The new mom- dad are manning their new family and the challenges of a new baby all by themselves. As I marvel at this, I also feel sad that a lot of new families in America don't have the support system that we take for granted in India. But at the same time, its very heartening to see neighbors and close friends standing up to help, hoping to share responsibilities and becoming a part of the village that is required to raise a baby.  With a toddler of my own underfoot, I offered the only thing I could manage to do- cook. ( I discovered an excellent resource- Meal Train  for new mothers, old people, recuperating patients).  Also, Nourishing a mother who is nourishing a baby seemed like a great opportunity to earn some good Karma :)


Dal Methi, a  salad, (steamed beetroot with cumin powder, salt, sugar, lemon juice,whole roasted peanuts) Stir fried kale ( with sesame, garlic, coconut, red chilies) Cauliflower and green onion Sabji, Mixed flour Poli/ roti ( oats, raagi,  two big spoons of Flaxseed powder in wheat flour), white rice( with cumin, asafoetida, peppercorns added when cooking the rice)

Though I cooked the meal with my toddler, I felt very satisfied while cooking this meal for a nursing mother- a kind of happiness that is very hard to put into words, but which just like the food nourished my soul. When my neighbor messaged me the next day she said, "Your food satisfied my soul! I didn't know I needed this until I ate it. As soon as I can,I want to learn to make the Dal and the greens. Thanks a ton!"

When I read my neighbors message, I started introspecting. I have never, ever in my life  have had a healthy and clean, nutritious diet except when I was pregnant. When I was breastfeeding, again because milk production for my daughter was the top priority, I kept up with my healthy food habits. After the first year when mothers milk started sharing its importance with other solid foods, I started veering off my path of healthy eating. In making our children, our whole family our priority, I feel that new mothers loose sight of their own body's needs. At least, I did. I have seen close friends, cousins, elder sisters go through this....We give from our body until we deplete it.  A reserach based article on ScienceMag talks about how women actually loose grey matter in their brains during pregnancy and the loss is still visible even two years later! (5% brain fat lost in the prenatal period )This loss is not just because we are being attuned to our babies needs and maternal instincts but because the fat from our brains is literally being used in the baby creation- developments process!

On a closer inspection of my roots I also noticed that the whole system around child birth and maternal care in India is very warm and welcoming. There's so much anecdotal wisdom always floating around us, access to help, simple but logical steps to follow for a new mother, do's and don'ts  of diet, oil massage for both baby and mother, such simple things permeating through generations.. There is of course the darker side of it being too strictly adhered to by the older generation and becoming cumbersome to follow for the contemporary woman in India- but there is definitely some gold in the old traditions. Even for me , a Indian mom living far away from India, the ancient wisdom passed onto me by my mother and mother-in-law helped me to steer through a long and nourishing breastfeeding experience. Our generation hasn't had to study texts or ancient books, but despite our Dr.Google queries, counter-arguments, stubborn refusal of acceptance of old norms,  the knowledge transfer from past generation to us is seamless. But there is very little about the mother's body, mother's care after the breastfeeding phase has passed. When the demands of a toddler, long breastfeeding relationship has depleted the mother- what happens next? Personal experience, anecdotal evidence points to the fact that women's health related problems, spinal problems,  knee and joint pain, bone density problems all arise a few years post pregnancy.

Cooking for a nursing mom reminded me that no matter what, I had to treat my body as a vessel that may not be carrying a new human being but which was still the vessel of my own aspirations and dreams, while I continue to exist on this planet. Unless I feed that body with nutritious food, give my body what it needs to replete itself, I will always be bone -weary. 

All the nursing mom's on this group- This post is just for all of you. Nourish yourself for the baby you are nourishing, but after the breastfeeding journey is complete, Nourish yourself for your own dreams, keep that body healthy because you need to be healthy for you. Your baby, your husband, your family will always need you, but so will you!

All the ancient wisdom that's been passed onto us, we will accept, edit, rewrite, make new versions and pass it on with the hope of not just healthier moms but healthier women ...

Why I Planted a Garden in Winter?

'Why I planted a garden in winter?' was written exactly one year ago! And I still stand by it!

Because there are two gifts that we should give our children- one is roots and the other is wings!
( found this quote on Pinterest)

The world as we know it came to an end with Trumps win. An Axe stands poised to eliminate climate and environmental policies implemented in the last 2 decades. With the Polar vortex this season - there isn't a dearth of smug skeptics taunting global warming. Purge lists for anyone and everyone who has worked or even attended climate change initiatives are underway. Scientists around the globe are scrambling to ' copy' existing research for fear that it will soon disappear. But through this political upheaval,me, a stay at home immigrant mom ,am left with a heartbreaking loss for not protecting my daughters future. Because let's be clear that the world we wanted for our children has been snatched from us . The cold , damp, rainy weather abets my helplessness. At the first opportunity- I gather my tools and start work in my garden. For a wounded soul there is nothing more healing than the magic combo of water, soil and seeds./seedlings. I huff and puff as I pull out the weeds - but my hands are cold , my face a little numb from the biting wind. As I am transplanting seedlings from my pre -election hopeful days , an old ,kindly neighbor asks me , " Isn't it a little late in the season my dear? " I smile at her, but continue pulling out the weeds. She is right and she means well. She smiles indulgently and walks away. I call after her,

"It's my garden of resilience.." She pauses and turns around. (Only in Berkeley can you have these kinds of conversations and neighbors who understand the socio- political context of what you mean. ) A dramatic stage beat passes - there are no questions , no explanations- she and I both digest what I said. She turns to walk away but quips, "Well, we definitely need more resilience gardens then."  Her understanding is gratifying and a balm for my restlessness.
In the coming years I am not sure if my family will live in this house , in Berkeley or even in this country. But I still wanted to plant the garden. It's a symbol of what immigrants have done in this country. It's a symbol of how angst and helplessness can be converted into a positive force. It's my path to teach my daughter to nurture life .
More than ever today we need to teach our children the power of nurturing, and the power of resilience in face of unwarranted biases, hatred and divisiveness.
And that's why I planted a garden in winter.
If you agree , plant something ,somewhere. The planet is going to need as much help as it can get. Plant your own resilience garden .

Annapurna's Pan ( English Translation of the original)

This is the English translation of the Marathi post. http://amrutahardikar.blogspot.com/2017/12/blog-post_20.html

Annapurna’s Pan

After enjoying a hearty meal if we complimented our Mom, she would tell us to, "Bless the cook and hope to get a bellyful tomorrow too.” In a more appreciative mood if we alluded to her as our Annapurna, she would deny the compliment, stressing, “No, I am not Annapurna; it was my mother who was a true Annapurna! She never had anything except a surplus of wheat flour, but everyone left her house well fed and sated.” My mom’s mom, Malati Ajji , passed away when I was too young to form definitive,distinct memories of her. I wasn’t blessed with her presence for long. But friends and acquaintances of my mom, aunts and uncle, even neighbors living in the by lanes of Ajji’s house near Dakshinmukhi Maruti Mandir, they all regaled us grand kids with anecdotes about her cooking. Most commonly we would hear ,” Your grandma could whip up a storm with her ball of wheat dough… she would keep them rolling and we would lose count of the polya we were eating..”  From what my Mom tells us , the hot polya off the pan were eaten with some  jaggery, or at times with a spicy dip of raw garlic, red chilli powder and oil. So the taste buds weren’t enchanted with the accompaniments, but Ajji’s soft polya were the real deal.

If there was a special occasion involving us grandkids, Ajji would make  savoury Ukad or sweet Sheera with jaggery. If Ajji had at her disposal a long gourmet  list of essentials, if she wasn’t dealing with the paucity in her circumstances, I am sure she could have whipped up a long list of special , delicious meals, much more than just the Polya that she offered her guests. But she didn’t let the economics of her family circumstances stop her from being the gracious host that she was meant to be. The people whom she fed may not remember the taste of her Polya anymore, but her graciousness stayed with them long after she was gone. My elder brother tries making the wheat Ukad many times, but he is never satisfied with the taste. He never is able to recreate the taste from his childhood, his craving for  Ajii’s Ukkad  remains unfulfilled.

These are some tall shoes to fill, but this ‘Annapurna’ legacy has been successfully carried on by my mom and aunts! My mom carries an essence of my grandmother’s spirit, so whether she agrees or not, she is our Annapurna!

Just recently my parents celebrated their 45^th wedding anniversary. In my mom’s journey as a ‘home maker’ ( who was a fulltime working woman too) ,in her kitchen, she has had a steady companion in the form of this aluminum,round bottomed pan or Kadahi . I call it Annapurna’s Patra or Pan.

After her marriage, mom had joined a kitty with the other ladies in our Waada. She bought this round bottomed pan from the winnings of the kitty. Its older than I am and has been with my mom longer than I have been..Even after she had a disposable income at hand and had wanted or wished to buy non stick pans or grills of branded companies, my Mom chose  not to buy any . When she was buying a Futura pressure cooker we convinced her that she needed to buy a pan too, and she bought it to pacify us. But after a few months, she complained, " I can’t use the spatula as usual, a little pressure here and there and see? you see these scratches!” Soon,Mom relegated the Futura pan to the back of her kitchen cupboard.

 Long Before the ‘Wok ‘craze had hit India, my Mom was cooking up her own storm in this round bottomed Annapurna Pot.  Her 'Stir fry' type veggies made us love the whole concept of  taking ‘पोळी भाजी’tiffins to school. We loved eating Green beans, okra, cluster beans,ivy gourd, radish fruits/mungrey/; half cooked, crunchy,and roasted yet cooked just right with the  green colour of the veggies left intact. Cabbage stir fried with just sesame seeds, green chillies and cilantro was a special treat, which, even today, all three of us try to recreate in our own kitchens. We considered having to eat the spicy potato wedges with poli to be a crime, so we would just savor the wedges. Mom would then have to send peanut chutney rolls with the wedges.  Leafy greens tempered with roasted peanut powder, onions and garlic were also gobbled down with the same zest. But while Mom was indulging in this ‘stir fry’ cooking style, she was very particular about the proportion of oil used in the cooking. On the days that she miscalculated or went overboard, she would wipe the Annapurna pot clean with white rice. The resulting ‘fodnicha bhaat’ or ‘spicy rice’ was a delicacy to be savored and was always on the top of our wish list. But sadly, we were indulged only every 15-20 days.

I think that this round bottomed pan has never had a moment of rest in our household. Besides the everyday cooking, Chiwda, Ladoo, Masalebhaat and Pulav for special occasions, all the goodies for Diwali, Bhajani, experimental dishes while all three of us learnt cooking; This pan has seen it all. If the three of us were ever asked, “ What would you like from your Mom’s kitchen?”, I am sure all three of us would reach out for this pan. But even if we were to get the pan, how can you transition the taste that is simply Mom’s food? Laying claim to the pan is foolhardy.. Mom is the source of its abundance and it’s not a Annapurna patra if its separated from the Annapurna herself...

To make a healthy gratifying meal you don’t need equipment or fancy pots and pans. Ajji didn’t have the resources, my Mom had, still has the economic independence to buy these things, but her formula of cooking is simple, pretty basic. You don’t need 30 ingredients to make a tasty meal; a hearty, nutritious meal can sate the belly and enrich the soul. We were lucky that we spent our childhoods in this well-nourished enchantment. But as we grew up our taste buds were corrupted with the tantalizing tastes of Punjabi , Chinese, Pizza, Italian, continental cuisines in hotels and restaurants. Once your taste buds are exposed to these sizzling tastes you can’t turn back the clock....

We grew up in a very ‘organic’ food culture (It was honest to its roots). But our kids are exposed to  Mexican, Ethiopian, Thai, Burmese, Italian, American food cultures and tastes, much before they have had the chance to form an organic food culture of their own. It’s difficult trying to recreate the well-nourished enchantment of our own childhoods for the sake of our kids. But when my daughter, living in Berkeley, licks clean her fingers while consuming kulthacha pithla and toop bhat, or when she insists on a  steam puffed poli right off the pan, or when she asks for a second serving of stir fried , crunchy, Kale tempered with coconut and sesame seeds, I feel a tiny bit fulfilled. I feel like the essence of my Annapurna’s spirit has rooted within me, I just need to find my own Patra/ Pan and try my best in creating a legacy of my own…