the wait . setting up office . hospitals

Why do people feel inclined to password protect their wifi?

Wireless Fidelity
yes,  fi·del·i·ty [ fi déllətee ] in itself means {amongst other more interesting definition}, reliability, dependability and conformity … as well as trustworthiness

I suppose in the world where Harre Krishna devotees are few and far in between, the very notion of trust, sharing, love has long gone with the shift from the free-love flower power era of the 1970s to the knowledge centric rat race era we face today.

Here’s the thing about rat races … even if you are the first to reach the pinnacle or the first to cross the finish line, you are still a rat … just ahead of the other rats. Now, what’s so appealing about that? … and of course, the hyper active rat is now stumped with the “now what?” dilemma.

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I’m sitting here …
I’ve set up office in the hospital again!

My ‘yes’ huddle {if that’s what it’s called} is not very ‘yes-able’ or agreeable with my lappie.
They aren’t talking.

I am technologically challenged.
For someone who installs SAP, programme her own websites {up to a point} and was part of a covert team that created a social network in the DMZ of the Bank’s servers … {my pathetic attempt to even feel remotely close to a hacker} … yes, I am technologically challenged.

The ‘what’s not working’ thats rendering setting up office in the hospital hopeless are:

  1. zero web connectivity
  2. my lappie doesn’t recognise the RSA numbers I punch into it; hence no VPN for me
  3. my blackberry gets into the blackout zone after 4 hours of mild utilisation – and it’s brand new, still spotting the 1/8th torn out plastic shield protector.

While Val needs to prematurely ‘push’, I need to ‘punch’ and ‘crunch’ some number out.

… and I am restless … the type of restlessness that is exacerbated by anxiety

Benji has been demanding to get out for a few days now, if not weeks … counting the mild contractions.
What’s the hurry really?
To prepare himself for the rat race that frankly, is starting earlier and earlier in life.

As ambitious as he may be, with a ‘big’ brave heart, the reality is he’s just way too small and delicate for the harsh world.
He’s not a wombat. He’s not a Joey.
Maybe like Becks, Benji doesn’t fully comprehend that.

Becks, like Benji is anxious.
Becks, unlike Benji, is not looking forward for Benji’s arrival to the world.
She just wants her mommy back.
Her mommy who can whirl her around, carry her and one where she can snuggle up to without having to manoeuvre around a rotund protruding mid-drift.

So in short, she’s asking out loud why is the baby taking so long and when can she have mommy back reinstated to her original glory.

I had brought Becks to visit mommy yesterday evening; thereby delaying the start of my number crunching to 10:30 pm and I had to burn the mid-night oil till 2:30 am … eyelids heavy as lead, but thank the Heavenly Gods I persisted and was able to hand the piece of work over to others to assist me with the cosmetic and physical production of the document.

Becks had voluntarily given up her ‘Friday’ {a dishevelled piece of rag (by now) that marginally resembles a shaggy dog soft toy} to mommy when the nurses came to take some test readings. Becks had anticipated that mommy would be distressed and could do with some comfort for a ‘security blanket’ – yikes, another Penelope trait!



 – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

having kids I had decided is not too bad …

Sure, for a day I totally freaked out … daunted by the prospect of it all.
The what ifs
The talk about mommy not making it by mommy herself and her mommy leading up to this drama had not been helpful at all.

But then, at 12:56 pm I received a text that said:

“Arrived in Tashkent at 4am Msian time. Cleared Immigration n Customs by 6:30. Slept like 9. Just got up to the sounds of birds chirping. This place is awesome”
… strangely a nice warmth floods and engulf me. Time stopped for about 20 seconds.

Yes, the benefit you get when the “kid” grows up and yet continues to inform you.
The kid that continues to share his aspirations, dreams, failures, exploitations, disappointments, broken heart, love … even when he has progressed into adulthood.

Oh yes, love and heart strings … the ‘kid’ and I was on BBM for hours wee into the night, and later on again in the morning as I was driving for a presentation a few days ago … matters of the heart that must be addressed regardless of the time of the day. That morning, work strangely took a second place quite naturally … have I mellowed? Do “kids” do this to you?

I thought of his aunt during my darkest moment over the last few days.

How she had inherited him and his brother at an age when she was younger than I am now.
How she had succeeded in bringing up two wonderful boys who are now decent young men anyone would be proud of. 
And how if she can do it, so can I, need be.

As I sit here, having just spoken to her as well, I am feeling blessed. Blessed to have the love, support and opportunity in shaping the lives of these people. The opportunity of being sub-surrogate mom to 4 kids, by now…. I wonder if mr. B knows intuitively in his own way that Baby Benji is here …

… and why is my brother in law taking forever in the delivery room!
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