Arrival of the expected

My wife and I waited for ten months. The wait was rather too long, we thought. Especially when we had no idea for whom we were waiting. A He or a She? Not that it mattered. But not knowing indeed increased our anticipation by several folds. In the evening of 21 July, after an eighteen hour wait at the hospital, finally She arrived.

The many tests we did to ensure the 'positive' results was positively positive only increased our joy by that many folds. It is hard to forget the days we saw her tiny heart beat and heard her heartbeat for the first time. Interestingly, adding more anticipatory elements to our case, seeing and hearing her heart beat were on two different days separated by about a week. Both days are equally memorable. It was the moment that brings humility in front of the omnipotent nature. Heart - an organ that runs our lives - starts its action when the foetus is only few centimetres long is beyond my imagination. Incomparable to the many gods we create. Abundant magical moments every time we went for a scan. We witnessed her grow through months. Technology even gave us a chance to realize how she might look like with the help of three-dimensional imaging. Nature and technology, while one is a blessing the other is a gift.

When the big day arrived, it was yet another day of waiting. We reached hospital at ten the previous night. The long wait started then. Even the previous thirty-nine weeks seemed to have gone as breeze. Eighteen hours is the longest I have ever waited. She just doesn't want to come out by herself. Later we came to know that the cord was knotted around her neck. Our wait ended at four O'clock on 21 July evening. Sitting outside the surgical room, I heard her first cry. When I walked into the room, I saw her lie on a table and a neonatologist performing a routine. She was all pink and the doctor announced that it's a girl. A proud moment. And I am a father from that moment on. I saw my wife being sutured. She smiled. Her smile meant that she is a mom from now on.

The journey was quite an adventure. It all started when arrival of the little one was confirmed towards the end of last year. My wife started a journal to document important happenings which she meticulously updates till date. When she started documenting this journal little did I know about those many moments that made our life together worth. What a wonderful gift would this journal be to our little one when she grows up.

Being nature and wildlife enthusiasts, we chose the name 'Prakruti' - a Sanskrit word for 'Nature'.

The fate of a nation

I am not doing justice to this bog since I became a fan of television debates. Watching political lunatics and clowns somersault between two sides of the same argument on daily basis is like I am on a joyride in Disneyland. Sheer amusement.

Public speaking is a skill. For many Indian politicians, politics is the ground to master that skill. I strongly urge anyone who is interested in mastering this art to tune yourself into one of the political debates that happen everyday on two television channels. I learnt how not to speak in public.

It is the fate of our nation to choose one among the following three in May. I have made up nicknames for these three lunatics - especially for those readers who are tired of hearing their names day-in and day-out.

1. Mr Kills-a-lot
2. Mr Coughs-a-lot
3. Mr Cries-a-lot

I am sure it is straightforward from the nicknames who is who. I don't have to explain further. Should I?

Mr Kills-a-lot, a radical lunatic. Undoubtedly killed two thousand people about ten years ago. As the saying goes, "If one kills, it is murder. If a mob kills, it is revolution". He created a revolution against people by not acting against crime. Only because they belong to a different religion. A perfect example of action in inaction. An efficient administrator, as loyalists claim. A tea vendor, as he claims. A 'ruthless' idiot, as I claim.

Mr Coughs-a-lot, an immature clown. Surfed on a wave of anti corruption. Overthrown a fifteen-year old government in the capital. Only to give subsidies. Creates more poor in the streets of Delhi. Has no knowledge of economics. Absolute lack of intelligence on how things work. Stages protests against the centre. Self-proclaimed Gandhi'an - only in outfit. The day will come when he sits in front of his own office to protest against his own government. Surprise surprise. An 'uncorrupted' anarchistic fool on deck. A disgrace to common man. Premature death is around the corner.

Mr Cries-a-lot, a mama's boy. Riding on a surname that has nothing to do with his family. Scores brownie points from time to time by going against his own party men. Men? Sorry, men-of-straw. Nothing else to talk about except that he can climb on to roof of any vehicle. The climbing clown.

The fate of a nation lies with one of these jokers. Tragic, isn't it?

Choosing one among a 'dictatorial' tea vendor, a severely 'sick' anarchist, and a 'thumb-sucking' kid is trivial for common man. Bad among worse on the polling day. What happens next is the cause of concern.

Whatever happens would unmistakably translate into common man's blunder.