The random musings of a sentient mind.

I used to have goals and plans and dreams. At 16, I wanted to become a manager like my brother. All I really wanted was to wear smart clothes and make-up and go to work and do “important” things and make a lot of money. At 21, I wanted to become a PhD and do “important” research that would change society and make communication more accessible to people and teach students. At 26, all I wanted was to live with my husband under one roof. At 31, I will settle for one rational discussion a day with an adult.


I always wanted to be a useful member of society. I wanted to contribute to society in some tangible way. It’s always nice to think that you are worth the oxygen you breathe. Because I have that luxury. I wonder if the woman who cooks or the one who cleans in my house wonders of such things. I think she would if she had the time between raising three kids, working 12 hours a day, cooking and cleaning in her own home and waking up in the middle of the night to fill up water.


I like to think while chopping vegetables. The sound of the blade hitting the board blocks out the outside noise. Then I can hear my thoughts as they jostle with each other to come out front. Another kitchen activity suitable to thinking is watching the pressure cooker. It seems to me like the steam escaping from the cooker dislodges all the grime stuck in my brain and allows the thoughts to communicate better with each other. But my favorite thinking kitchen chore is washing dishes. The harder I need to think, the harder I scrub. It helps sort out the mess in my head and on the pan. The last is a chore I do very little of these days having a maid and all. May be that’s why my thoughts are in a mess.


Ask any first time mom and she will tell you one of the most beautiful sights in the world is your son sitting down to his meal with gusto, eating with his hands (and creating a mess, but that’s besides the point) and finishing off his meal almost entirely on his own. One of the simple pleasures of life is that of a well-fed and well-rested baby.


The subjective theory of value (or theory of subjective value) is an economic theory of value that identifies worth as being based on the wants and needs of the members of a society, as opposed to value being inherent to an object.

So does me typing 750 words a night for 30 people to read have any value? Because what people in rural India really need are water and electricity.


I have heard stories from the hubby about his great grandmother, an extra ordinary lady who raised six children and several children and grandchildren. Lived to be over 90 and lived alone at the end. Made her own pickles, jams and jellies. Read up on religion and politics and wrote essays on the subject. Being a doctor’s daughter, she knew a lot about medicine and had a treasure chest of household cures. Once she needed something fixed around the house; so she read a book and fixed it herself, mixing cement and all. She was, I hear, full of love for everyone and despite coming from a different time, did not discriminate against anyone. She apparently spoke to my husband like a friend, asking him about his girlfriends! Her great grand children speak of her with respect and admiration to this day. I like to think of her as the roots of a tree that is still growing.


Can we blame other people for our choices if we choose to not be happy?


How valuable is happiness? A baby’s smile?


Every evening I go over to the IIT campus guest house which is next to the Powai Lake and sit on the steps behind it looking at the lake while the baby plays. A soft breeze blows, a pleasant contrast to the heaviness of the clouds which are burdened with moisture but refuse to let go. I watch the other little children of the same age as my son and observe their moms and dads. I’m interested in the moms mostly. Is she satisfied with her life, I wonder? I chat with them sometimes. Some of them work, some don’t. Some have domestic helps, some kids go to day care while some take care of the babies on their own. We all smile and share our stories. Because as much as we may like to think we are unique, we are almost the same. I am reminded of the famous dialogue from “My Big Fat Greek Wedding”, “Here tonight, we have, ah, apple and orange. We all different, but in the end, we all fruit.” Sometimes we are sweet and sometimes sour. Such is our nature.

About Aditi

My thoughts are who I am and I am what my thoughts make me.
This entry was posted in Baby, Life in general, Random and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

6 Responses to The random musings of a sentient mind.

  1. meena says:

    too good. I dont Like it I just Love each and every part of this blog post 🙂

  2. Just got to read this, Aditi. Totally, totally awesome. Loved your returning focus to motherhood and the story about great grandma. Charmed to get to know her through your blog. Reading this blog article was like walking on a long, winding forest path and discovering something fresh at every turn. Keep feeling.

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