Anmol vs. Cookiie SSC: First Impressions

eM and I went to Tirupati this weekend to meet her great-grandparents and extended family. We just got back, to a huge backlog of freelance work. Both when we're in new places, as well as when she senses deadlines looming, eM insists on being carried. Nonstop. Thank god for babywearing - it preserves my sanity, and my back. 

My first baby carrier was from Mee Mee. Let me tell you since Mee Mee won't - it isn't stringently tested, and it's not at all ergonomic. I know a lot of non-parents read this blog, so feel free to skip this post, after this one important takeaway: most commercially sold Indian carriers aren't good for your baby's hips, and aren't as safe as they should be. A couple of mompreneurs recently launched soft structure carriers (SSC's) which are the first Indian-made, internationally tested, ergonomic carriers in the market. Both are similarly priced, completely reliable, and utterly beautiful. I couldn't pick between them, so I just bought one of each. And since I've been getting questions about which one I prefer, I thought I'd do a quick comparison. This is just based on about a week's usage, it's very much just first impressions. I'm still learning about the features.

Purchasing

Anmol sells SSC's via a closed Facebook group. Sales happen on a first-come first-served basis, and it's a feeding frenzy. Each of their releases contains several designs (10-15), but very few pieces are made of each type. This is because they're semi, or completely, hand-woven. Cookiie only releases 4-6 designs in each sale, but they seem to have more pieces of each type available. They also accept pre-bookings through their website. I'm not sure which brand has the most SSC's per release overall, but I've definitely observed that it's easier to land a Cookiie than an Anmol so far. Anmol's launching a website soon, so that may very well change.

Delivery

Cookiie delivers via DTDC, and helpfully sent over a tracking ID. The package from Mumbai arrived in Hyderabad in four days, and attractively highlighted the benefits of babywearing. Less reflux, less fussing; and my favourite, which is also their tagline: you get to 'wear a hug'. Cookiie SSC's come with a clearly illustrated instruction booklet, and a one-year warranty against manufacturing defects.

Anmol sends their SSC's through Mirakle Couriers, an agency employing low-income deaf adults. It also arrived in four days, and my favourite thing about the packaging was that it required no scissors or knives to open up. The SSC was very neatly packed, with a simple photo-guide of instructions, and a handwritten note. The box has a great diagram of the SSC's parts, which I confess I missed seeing because I was too excited about the SSC itself!

Size

The specs indicate Cookiie is less than a centimeter taller than Anmol, and about 3 cm wider. When I place them one on top of the other, you can see there's practically no difference. In fact, I'd have suspected Anmol was wider because of the way it's cut - the thick paneling on the sides goes a bit higher and wider than Cookiie's. eM seems to have a bit more space in the Anmol, though she doesn't really need it at the moment. On the other hand, Cookiie's waist band is a bit wider, which is great for hiding post-baby belly bulges (or cheese paunches, as in my case). Cookiie's SSC also comes with a handy minifier that can cinch the seat by up to 5 inches, making it convenient for smaller or thinner babies.

Both carriers have easily adjustable straps. They may be the exact same straps for all I know, but I find Anmol's easier to adjust on the go. Cookiie's are a bit more rigid. This may also be because Anmol is more generous with extra strap material, so there's more material available to loosen/tighten. My husband will vehemently deny it, but we have pretty similar body frames. But if I were sharing my SSC with someone with a very different body type, especially a bulkier one, Anmol may make it more easy.

The Cookiie fits babies from 5-22kgs, while Anmol seats 7-22kgs. While Cookiie's brochure emphasizes it's not to be used for babies below this threshold, Anmol provides a rolled blanket/pillow hack that allows their SSC to be used by even newborns. Both brands have toddler variations that can be used by bigger babies.

Other Features

Apart from being in a cool colour, Cookiie's hood has drawstrings on the sides making it easier to tighten and tie + look great with ruffled edges when not in use. It's also stowed with snaps while Anmol's is secured with velcro. Coming to the chest strap, Anmol's is placed at bra-hook level, while Cookiie's is a bit higher, and adjustable.

And finally the pocket - Cookiie's is placed at the middle of the waist strap, and is wide enough to accommodate a mobile phone, credit card, and keys. Anmol's is placed at the left of the waist strap, and won't fit a phone. This is probably a good thing, as it keeps phones away from the baby, but it's less convenient. Being a right-hander, I also find the placement slightly awkward, especially since it's near/partly under the baby's leg. That said, I only do front carries at the moment. When I do a back carry, Anmol's pocket will likely be the more convenient one.

Aesthetics

The Cookiie comes in super cool graphic prints - stars, chevrons, block prints, ikats. The waist band has a different pattern, and the hood is usually a sharp contrasting colour, which makes the whole thing look stunning when used. Most Anmols are semi or completely hand woven by local weavers, and the wefts of cotton skilfully showcase several colours. The material's OKO tex certified, and is yarn dyed, AZO free. What this basically means is it's completely baby friendly and won't bleed into their skin. It also looks gorgeous, especially in natural light. Each brand definitely has a distinctive style, but I think both look fantastic.

There you have it, the differences I've spotted after a few days' use of each. This isn't a review of either, because I haven't used them long enough. I genuinely don't have a preference yet, and I also want to emphasize that what eventually works for me given mine & my baby's body types + how we use it won't necessarily be the right choice for you. This is also only applicable for the carriers that were sold in the latest release. Both brands are constantly modifying and improving their products.

I highly recommend trying out any babywearing gear before you buy it. If you're in Hyderabad, check out our sling library, where you can easily try on and rent carriers. (Full disclosure: I'm a co-founder of the library, but I don't make any money from it, or from any of these vendors).

From Maggi to Udon Noodle Soup

I always thought I'd marry someone who cooked. It turns out the only thing more attractive than a man who cooks... is a man who doesn't cook, but attempts it for you anyway. Over the last five years, A's cooked for me exactly two times. Ready-to-cook cake, and a ready-to-cook mac and cheese, as he's always quick to point out. But, no sarcasm, I still think it's really sweet. This week, after binge-watching Masterchef Australia and hearing me talk about the idiot-proofness of Built2Cook, he volunteered to make dinner. I figured it was an interesting opportunity to stress-test the product... would someone who'd only ever made Maggi noodles be able to pull off an Udon noodle soup? :)

eM and I took our seats in the Rao kitchen and settled down to watch. First off, I should mention that I was very impressed with Built2Cook's ability to take feedback & refine their product. I'd just mentioned an oil spill in last week's box, and this week saw the oil in a different type of container! Everything continued to be neatly labelled and packed. I'm a fan of consistency, especially from startups, so this is very promising. As A set up his kitchen, he asked if I had a strainer, a vital utensil for this dish. I do, but as I'm rating Built2Cook from the perspective of the average bachelor who doesn't cook - it may be worth noting if a recipe needs 'special' equipment like a strainer or a grinder that such kitchens may not have. They do mention it in the recipe, but it'd be good to have it mentioned upfront to avoid disappointment.

Inspired by the advice on MC Aus, A decided to 'keep his bench clean'. He opened everything, carefully re-sticking the labels for each ingredient onto the containers as he went along... he didn't want to risk grabbing the dark soy rather than the light soy, or the aromat in place of the tempura crumble. Thanks to his meticulousness, we noticed a couple of minor discrepancies. The recipe said to garnish with leeks & broccoli; but the ingredients list only mentioned leeks, and the box itself had neither. This wasn't a big deal though, as the box was chock-full of other lovely fresh veg - carrots, spinach, asparagus, yellow & red bell peppers, mushrooms. We certainly didn't miss the leeks & broccoli. It was a beautiful display of chiffonade, which made the finished dish look “exactly like the picture on the flyer!” as A said.

 

An added advantage is that it's impossible for each vegetable not to get cooked properly as they're all cut so evenly. If I had to nitpick I'd cook the asparagus slightly before throwing in the rest, as it remained slightly bitey, but mostly, it's foolproof... and so healthy, given it’s all blanched! A ate everything except one asparagus without complaint. So I definitely recommend making this with/for kids who may be picky about their vegetables otherwise.

We were also impressed with the ingredients for the curried broth. When I cook Oriental from scratch, I invariably skip things like aromat, or replace the castor sugar with white. I just can't be bothered stocking a full Oriental kitchen for the few times that I cook it. With Built2Cook, there's no such compromise because you have everything you need, in the proportions that you need. A was hesitant at first, asking if he could really just use exactly what was given without tasting along the way. In the interest of checking idiot-proofness, I told him to go for it, leaving out just the salt. The resulting broth was a thing of beauty. As A put it, "I feel so proud of making something taste like that, even though I didn't actually do anything." Hint, hint: if trying to get to someone's heart through their stomach, this is bound to impress!

The broth and vegetables are perfectly balanced, and the whole thing has a complex flavour profile which you wouldn't think came from just four basic steps. It probably took A about ten minutes to cook - 8 more than Maggi; but 10,000 times more healthy; and, frankly, just as moreish. I'd be happy to drink mugfuls of that every day. I wasn't this impressed with thetacos since their taste depended on my ability to season. This, on the other hand, was gorgeous enough to inspire poetry - the crunch of the tempura crumble against the freshness of the spring onions, while the veg stayed firm but tender in that rich broth... I hope they keep a Japanese dish on their menu at all times, because the chef absolutely nailed this one! 

I think the only advice I'd give non-cooks who try Built2Cook is to follow the recipes verbatim except for the amount of oil & salt to be used. With a non-stick kadai, we used about 1/3^rd the oil provided, and none of the salt. It was lovely to sit around doing nothing while A whipped up a beautiful meal. I could see his confidence growing as he cooked, and the dish's resounding success has him rearing to try something else soon!

The Birthplace: A (Long Overdue) Review

I've been joke-accused of turning this space into a mommy blog, gasp. Let me just say - I would love to gush about my daughter all. the. time. But this blog's going to stay what it always has been - a place where I compile info & observations on things I'm interested in to (hopefully) save people some time if they're researching the same things. Those things just happen to be baby related at the moment. 

...And, of course, I'll occasionally pontificate or post something random, just because I can :D

I wrote about how we chose to have our baby at The Birthplace, Hyderabad before. So it's only fair to follow up and talk about our experience there - especially given it completely justified our decision to go with them. Through the move back to India, with its associated craziness; then the struggle through the first couple of weeks with a newborn, The Birthplace was always my safe spot, the voice of sanity in all the chaos. 

There was my doctor, Pratibha Narayan, who was excellent - she clearly distinguished my mom's diabetes from my own sugar levels when other doctors would have marked me high-risk by default. At the same time, she kept a close eye on my levels throughout, never hesitating to tell me when something could build into a red flag. All the while, the biggest thing she did for my peace of mind was pointedly tell any relatives who came with me to chill on the superstitious beliefs they had. She distinguished fact from fiction clearly, and thank God for that, because I heard a zillion random theories when I was pregnant. Despite being the primary doctor for what seemed like every person I spoke to at The Birthplace, she always responded to my emails/texts on the same day. Actually, she still does.

That responsiveness and respect for time is true of everyone and everything at The Birthplace. I was never kept waiting for an appointment unless someone else was having an emergency surgery. Yet, I never felt hurried when I had an appointment. Perhaps best of all, any reports that were required were emailed to me within 24/48 hours, and a follow-up phone call was made to talk through the results and what I should do next. The in-house pharmacy always had everything I needed, so they saved me trips to other places. 

Everyone, from the receptionist to the doctors to the cleaning staff, could speak English and/or Hindi. Yes, I've lived in Hyderabad on & off for a few years, and I can understand Telugu; but speaking it takes real focus and that's not something I'd particularly want to do when pregnant/delivering. Being able to talk in languages I'm comfortable with was a huge load off my mind. And it's not just the language prowess that was impressive, it was the communication skills too. Everyone I met had a great personality, was helpful, consistent, and clearly knew their stuff. Plus, they actually seemed to care! I'm always amazed that everyone from the marketing team to the desk staff address me by my name and remember my details. 

And I've mentioned the 4D scans before, but I have to say it again - they're amazing. Being able to lie back comfortably & watch our baby in real time, on a projected HD screen, with my husband, unhurried, while the doctor gushed how cute our chubby baby was, was an incomparable experience that I don't think exists anywhere else (I have had scans in other places and they were great, but this was truly beyond that).

So I was expecting a good experience with the delivery, but I had no idea how good it would be. Let me start by saying I went in at a time that was very convenient for me & my visitors, but not so much for the hospital - about 4:30AM on a Sunday morning. I went in with no notice, and had the baby within half an hour. And yet, between the time that I called to tell them I was coming and the time I got there, I was met by a team of help staff, an on-call doctor, and - when she confirmed I was really having the baby that fast - another on-call doctor, my gynaec, a pediatrician, and yet more support staff. Despite it being a Sunday, and my being the only resident at The Birthplace at the time, all my meals were arranged, any requests were catered to, and I received a visit from the senior pediatrician, Dr Sivaranjani, on the same day.

Despite having no time to read through my birth plan, everything went exactly as I'd have wished, given The Birthplace's philosophy is pretty much the same as mine anyway. I got skin to skin, A got to watch the baby get weighed etc, and we got to feed her straight away. Which brings me to another important thing that I don't think any other hospital in the world has - learning to breastfeed at The Birthplace is amazing. Every single time I fed for the next three days, at least one nurse or doctor was in the room, just standing by to see if they could help. I can't tell you what a difference this makes. I loved just being told that I was doing great, and having the additional hands readily available when the baby and I were both figuring out how to make it all work.

There's a lot going on when you've just had a baby - you need to figure out your after-delivery care, you need to eat more often, drink a lot more water, and figure out what to do with the baby and your husband and all your visitors, all while not being at your physical best. The Birthplace ensured my needs were taken care of, and that I was gently eased into this new normal. From the baby's bath each morning, to mine; from meal & medication reminders, to having a nutritionist, physical therapist, and lactation consultant check in on me, they made sure to think of everything which I may not have had the mindspace to think about myself.

And it's not just hyperbole - if you've to stay more than 2 days (3 if you've had a C-sec) for medical concerns, they don't charge you anything extra. eM looked a little yellow, so we stayed back an extra day & a half to make sure she wasn't jaundiced. We were given just as much attention and care as on the days we paid for. By the last day, we felt we knew everyone on the staff well, and we really, really wanted to tip the nurses who'd taken such good care of us. Without exception, they all refused. Ditto most of the cleaning staff who'd helped so much with baths and recovery. It literally made me choke up. While The Birthplace gets some flack for being pricey and not accepting insurance up-front (so you need to pay and then get refunded), I think it's worth every penny. 

True confession: on day 5 with my new daughter, I was desperately considering how to get myself re-admitted so life could go back to being peaches & roses! No need for such drastic measures, I return frequently to meet our pediatrician, who's every bit as supportive, no-nonsense, and reassuring as my gynaec. It's a weird thing to say about a hospital, but I'm glad my relationship with them will continue.

As always, a disclaimer that this review wasn't paid for (in fact, I paid for the pleasure of reviewing them!) and all opinions are my own. In the interest of full disclosure: I won an upgrade to a luxury suite, as well as a free newborn photo-shoot (which reminds me, I need to go get said newborn photo-shoot before she's no longer 'new') at an event that The Birthplace sponsored. So I got a few extra perks when I stayed there, but I've compared notes with friends and they really are this nice to everyone.

Singing the Blues

Somehow, it's already a month since that night I nearly had a baby in my loo / an Uber cab. Having never really experienced physical distress - other than that time I watched Karzzz - I'd always been curious about my pain threshold. Turns out I'm a bit of a buffalo. Note to self: the next time I'm 40 weeks pregnant, I should probably just call the doctor when I feel any pain at all. 

As it was, we got to the hospital, and the on-call doctor said, "You're having this baby NOW!" And I thought, "Ah, you probably say that to everyone so they don't feel discouraged." Except she wasn't kidding, and I really did have the baby then. I'd secretly hoped for a girl, but figured I wouldn't be lucky enough to get one. You don't get to have a happy marriage, an easy pregnancy, a non-labour, and your pick of baby gender. The odds don't usually favour one person that heavily. Yet somehow, here we were with a baby girl... on a Sunday morning at that, so people could come by without needing to bunk office! So that was fun, and also the perfect ending to a completely chilled out pregnancy. It felt like everything I wanted went my way.

My idyllic zen-like 'Oh, I birth babies every day' euphoria continued for the next four days. Hospital staff kept coming in and re-telling my infamous labour story. Friends visited, and marvelled at how I was up and about hours after giving birth. Relatives came over, and I was very happy to note I was sticking to my theoretical stance, and not being stingy about sharing the baby with them. I caught up on my final work assignments from the hospital. A & I even had time to catch a celebratory meal together while at the hospital, and the baby - our perfectly well-behaved, made-to-order baby  - slept through it, letting us!

Then we came home, and everything went bananas.

I genuinely can't tell whether it was 'regular' baby blues, or if it was because my laid-back plans went out the window when my mum had to suddenly go back to Bangalore. All I know is, instead of bonding with my baby in the chilled out way I'd dreamed of (my mom's great with babies), I was suddenly going from zero to hundred, scrambling to do everything. Feeding, burping, changing diapers - I was constantly doing one or the other, while being terrified I was doing it all wrong because there was no one watching me. I went from the person who tuned out everyone except her doctor to the person who took everyone's advice, nearly all of it based on opinion rather than facts, and got even more confused. 

I can't begin to express what I felt. My mind just never shut off - there was constant chatter, all negative, and I was always a breath away from crying. People kept telling me to sleep when the baby slept. So I'd put my phone away, and lie in a dark room - but all that did was give the thoughts in my head free rein. This whole post-delivery seclusion to 'rest' thing? Terrible idea. If the zombie-like despair I felt for a couple of weeks is any indication of what postnatal depression looks like, I have enormous respect for the women who battle it. I have a supremely un-fussy baby, and we didn't have any trouble feeding, or any health trouble (either of us), and yet, I've never felt anything that bad. I can't imagine what it would have been like otherwise. As it is, it was unignorable - and let's remember I'm that person who ignored labour.  

I'm so thankful for the day I woke up and vomited everything, because it led me to a doctor who stated that she didn't care what Indian culture said women had to do post-delivery. Given I'd been so active right until the delivery and clearly wasn't suffering physically after it, I needed to just get out and get some sunlight + fresh air. I needed the opposite of rest. I needed my life back, independent of the baby. Otherwise, I'd just go from having a dozen different interests and things to do, to having one thing to obsess about, in one room at that, and I'd continue making myself sick.

I'm not sure why I needed a third party to point out something that obvious. If it were just my mum at home, I would have talked her into letting me be up and about - not to mention in real clothes, rather than nighties - long before that point. It's amazing what a difference it's made. Everything's back to being easy. Maybe it's just because my mum's back, and her confidence is rubbing off on me, plus she doesn't fight me on this stuff. Maybe it's because the baby's older, and wakes up on her own now. But maybe, just maybe, it's because I'm relying on my instincts again, instead of trying to follow other peoples'.

So, all's well that ends well. I could just focus on that, and downplay the black mind zone I went into. I could write a completely honest one-month update on our Maya-bee, and it'd be all rainbows and sunshine like every other new mum update. But the thing is, I spoke to some other mums I know, and every single one of them said they'd felt like a failure in their first couple of weeks, or cried multiple times, or that some parts just hadn't come naturally. Yet somehow, no one I know has volunteered that information proactively. Maybe because it did all end well, and it seemed like it wasn't worth mentioning?

I think it's worth mentioning. Without condensing it into a single line 'You may feel a bit overwhelmed after the baby comes along, and that's normal': this was what I felt like for the first few days of Maya's life. I don't feel anything remotely like it now, but that doesn't mean it never happened. If you feel panicky, for lack of a better word, after you have a baby, know that you're not alone. You're not even some 10% statistic. You're just like everyone else I've ever spoken to. You're likely doing a fantastic job. The fear won't last. You'll get through this. And when you do, I hope you let the next pregnant friend you meet know that too, rather than being happy to just forget you ever felt this way.

E-Commerce Wins

There are quite a few accomplishments I'm proud of. Today, I added a triumphant moment to my absolute top-twenty, will-brag-about-this-forever pile: I booked a tatkal ticket on the infamous Indian Railways site.

Source: Firstpost

To be fair, I rarely have an issue with them when it comes to regular tickets. Yes, their Captchas are a bit ridiculous, and they have to stop placing them on every single page. Yes, they occasionally log you out for no reason. But still, with normal tickets, it's an easy enough matter to get back in and book, because the number of seats available doesn't change drastically every 5 minutes.

Tatkal tickets, on the other hand, are only released at 10am on the day before the journey. So anyone with an emergency of any sort (such as when the Indian Railways decides to advance the time of your carefully pre-booked train by over six hours... without informing you) logs in and frantically tries to get train tickets for the following day. 

There are over 10,000 railway origin-destination pairs in India, so you'd think even this wouldn't be a problem, but it is. Despite the abundance of options, very few people want to get to, say, Rai Bareli, in a hurry. No, the majority want Chennai-Bangalore, Hyderabad-Mumbai, and so on. There are about 400 Tatkal tickets (max) for each of these combinations. There are 243 million internet users in India. You do the math. Supposedly, 40,000-45,000 Tatkal tickets are booked within an hour of their being released. 

My theory is that these tickets would get booked in the first ten minutes; it's just that the site adamantly refuses to allow it. At 10am on the dot, IRCTC gets overwhelmed by all the attention. It hangs, it jerks. It throws Captcha after Captcha after you. Every minute, on the minute, no matter what stage of the booking you're at, you will get automatically logged out. It's an exercise in patience.

I don't usually deal with tatkal anything, it sends my BP soaring. On the rare occasions when I do need a tatkal ticket, my parents have bought it for me the old-fashioned way - by 'queueing' up at the railway counter and fighting their way through a crowd that didn't get the memo that queues exist for a reason. But, as I said, the Indian Railways decided to arbitly re-schedule a train that starts at 6:30pm to 1:30pm, and not bother notifying people who'd booked themselves on said train. And I'm having a baby in 20-ish days, so my parents getting here before that is kind of imperative. So I offered to book tatkal tickets.

How hard can it be, right? I logged into the site at 9:35am (good call, because they claimed I read their Captcha wrong 3 times), and then refreshed the page every 2 minutes. FYI - it logs you out every 3 minutes if you let it get idle before 10/after 12. Also, FYI - it logs you out if you refresh the page/run a new search/do anything more than 25 times. And yes, you do have to prove you're a human being again, even if you're on the exact same browser. People have recommended logging in from different browsers so you're always logged in somewhere, but I can tell you this doesn't work - it just logs you out everywhere. People have also said Internet Explorer is the fastest when it comes to IRCTC, but uh, IE isn't the fastest when it comes to anything. Chrome worked just fine, while my IE was still booting up and asking if it could be my default browser (yes, sure, that's going to happen).

Anyway. 9:45am. The downstairs neighbour came over with a plumber to check for leaks because his... long story, and it was in Telugu, so I wasn't even really listening. I waved them out at 9:55am, ninja-like focus trained on my laptop. And realized that thanks to IRCTC's brain numbing refresh-and-repeat routine, I'd been lulled into leaving my debit card inside my wallet, rather than out. I whipped it out and typed in the numbers, as well as the ID proof details so I could easily copy-paste it.

And then, the moment of truth - 10am. IRCTC went bananas. It logged me out 5 times, 3 times at the payment confirmation stage, and had me enter passenger details 6 separate times. So my insane typing speed finally came in handy. About 3 minutes into the process, I started to despair, and thought, fleetingly, "They'll all be gone by now!" But each time I got back to the availability page, it continued to say 330 tickets were available. Which means nothing, by the way, because they probably just hadn't refreshed it yet. Still, it gave me the fortitude to press on. And finally, finally, six glorious minutes later, I'd booked three tickets. I feel like I deserve a sticker or something.

"Woah," A said. "I've never known anyone who managed to book a Tatkal ticket online before."

He wasn't even being sarcastic. There are agents who charge you to book these tickets online, and then tell you sheepishly that they all sold out too fast. I could share my top tips for getting in and out quickly etc, but the truth is, they'd be no good, because the rules keep changing. The point of this post is merely to record for posterity how useless e-com sites can sometimes be in 2014... here's hoping we'll be scoffing at this kind of thing a few years from now.

... Just for the record, IRCTC isn't the only site to earn my wrath. A certain swankily-advertising furniture portal called Pepperfry is so bad it's not funny. It took them four weeks to tell me the office table they'd confirmed for me wasn't in stock and wasn't ever going to be. It took them another two weeks to refund my money for the table, plus the chair which I clearly no longer needed. Three months later, they still haven't picked up the chair that came with the table, Yesterday, they called to see if I liked the table. I explained that I didn't have an opinion. They called an hour later to see if I liked the chair, at least.

I could go on, but I think I've made my point.

Incredible India

We like to say we're a jolly Bollywood-loving singing & dancing bunch who leave life in the hands of fate. We also proclaim that we believe hospitality is next to Godliness and we welcome diversity and learning. I think those perceptions are as grounded in reality as talking elephants and purple unicorns. 

Each person in this (vastly overcrowded) country likes to behave as though they're the only ones in it. 

I can forget about being offered a seat, or a slightly wider berth, even at eight months pregnant. Worse, I can guarantee that someone will elbow their way ahead of me, pretending a line just doesn't exist. And the cashier will just go ahead and serve them, whether we're at a small store, or at a five star hotel. Entitlement is the only language that speaks loud and clear in India.

People will spit millimeters away from my feet. Cell phones will be on loud in every theater. Trial rooms and toilets in malls will be taken over for hours together, without any hint of remorse or acknowledgement that anyone else is waiting for their turn. Red signals won't stop traffic. Green signals won't stop pedestrians. Traffic policemen will yell... and be yelled at. Likewise bus conductors, train ticket checkers, and anyone else who supposedly has any authority. And it'll be impossible to tell who's in the right, but by-standers will jump in to fight anyway.

It's been one of those weeks when it's hard to believe anything can change. I was at the maternity hospital yesterday. This is a place that takes twenty patients at a time, and the fees reflect this exclusivity. You'd think if you could afford it, you could afford some manners, or at least a basic level of common sense. So. I walk in at 3:50 for my appointment at 4, and find my doctor's been called away for an emergency C-sec. I don't have plans for the evening, so I say I'll wait for an hour, no problem. There's AC. There's water. I've an internet connection. It's hardly a hardship. And if it were, I'd just reschedule and come back another day. Isn't that what anyone would do? Apparently not. 

A family on my left is shouting about how the doctor can't treat them like third rate citizens, and how rude it is that they'll have to wait. Do they have an emergency of their own? Nope. Standard visit. If they had an emergency, would they be happy for the doctor to pop out and check on someone else's standard visit? Yeah, right.

On my right, another couple is indignant that they paid such-and-such amount, because they were guaranteed a 10 to 15 minute wait time, maximum. This, despite the fact that boards everywhere say that the only reason for delay will be if someone's having an emergency, and to know that they'll do the same for you. This, despite the fact that these people can probably read, given they're sporting designer handbags and shoes. This, despite the fact that being in your third trimester, you likely know that babies don't always get born within 15 minutes. And, may I add, having observed Indians abroad - this despite the fact that in any other country in the world, you'd tuck your tail between your legs and at least pretend to understand.

We like to talk about how Western civilization acts entitled and takes everything for granted, but I don't think anyone can beat our sense of absolute privilege. You should see the way a watchman/shopkeeper/auto driver's eyes light up when you say 'please' or 'thank you.' It's such a small thing. Why doesn't it just come automatically? It's an interesting dichotomy: how egoistic we are, while also being supremely insecure. You see this in the way people treat their household help, shop assistants, security personnel. (Of course, some service staff think when you're polite, you must be a push over; and so then they're happy to have a chance to throw some attitude around).

Over here, nothing comes without a fight anyway. Our public systems are overcrowded and underfunded, our policies are redundant and unhelpful. So why do we add our tuppence to make it even harder? Why does an ambulance get stuck in traffic for hours together because no one wants to be the first to give way to it? Why do we consciously say we won't be nice to people because if we do, they'll just take advantage of us? When will we grow up at least a little?

Yes, this country has certain problems that are inherently hard to solve. Then there are others that we just refuse to acknowledge. These are the issues that, on a day to day basis, make life here so hard. Not the fear of rape, or air pollution, or whatever else. Just plain selfish, self-centered, insensitive loutishness, passed on from generation to generation. 

Having a Baby in Hyderabad

One of the things I struggle with after moving back to India is the lack of information online. I'll see guest houses on the road, but they won't have websites, or even a listing on MakeMyTrip/TripAdvisor. I know restaurants offer home delivery, but there's no way of ordering other than to call them up. And perhaps most irksome of all, there are very few online reviews of any product or service. 

... All of which is to say that I had to resort to asking people about maternity hospitals in Hyderabad, rather than just resorting to good old Google. The internet was almost no use - it couldn't even tell me the average cost of having a baby (up to delivery). So to potentially save someone else some time, here's what we found. I should preface this by saying what we were looking for:

* A hospital within 8-10kms of our house in Madhapur/Hitech City. Not only do you not want to deliver your baby en route, but also, it just makes it simpler for check-ups.

* A reasonable C-section rate. I have nothing against medical intervention, but I also didn't want to go to a place with a statistical history of repeatedly interfering. 

* Low to no wait times. We waited five hours (not even exaggerating) at Vijaya Diagnostics for a TIFFA scan. It makes me BP-hopping mad. I'm the type that makes appointments well in advance, and I expect hospitals to honour the time slots they give me, barring an emergency of some sort. 

* A trustworthy doctor whom we felt comfortable with. I just can't relax around a doctor who says things like "They deliver breech babies naturally in the US because they don't care if it dies," or "The only reason people can't breastfeed is because they don't try hard enough." That kind of BS is annoying enough coming from elderly relatives who 'don't know better,' but to hear it from a medical practitioner was terrifying.

* I preferably wanted a place that understood the relevance of skin-to-skin, lactation consulting, and so on. I'm not saying I'd necessarily want an active labour or remember to do Lamaze. However, I'd be happier if the hospital's philosophies weren't stuck in the 1980's. 

There were four hospitals we considered - Fernandes, Rainbow, Motherhood, and The Birthplace. Fernandes was out straight away because of its location near Abids. While they have a clinic in Jubilee Hills, that one only offers Day Care procedures. Rainbow was incredibly close to our house, but had a C-section rate that scared me. I'm not suggesting they don't have a good reason for it. I'm only saying I was spooked and didn't bother looking any closer. 

That left us with two serious contenders - Motherhood, on Road No 12, and The Birthplace on Road No 2. Both were easily accessible. Both had senior doctors with good reviews from people whom we knew. Both preached the value of an unmedicated labour where possible. So we decided to schedule consultations with the gynacs we had been recommended at both places, and see whom we felt more comfortable with. Honestly, what it came down to wasn't which gynac we clicked with - both were fantastic. Instead, what it came down to was our experience at their waiting rooms. 

Motherhood was much busier, and our appointment was delayed by 20 minutes. On the other hand, Birthplace only has 23-25 beds, so it's far less crowded. We never felt rushed. This is a tiny thing, but I also appreciated the fact that the bathrooms were cleaner, and the labour suites looked less used. The Birthplace is, overall, much more sophisticated.

Those are all really small, subjective things. I could just as easily have gone with Motherhood, especially since the price difference between the two is considerable. The Birthplace costs (much) more than any other hospital, though they do include things like epidurals which other hospitals often add on as extras. However, we decided on The Birthplace, and I've been very happy with that decision. A few things that really stood out for me:

* We've never had to wait for an appointment or a scan or a test. Everything happens with clinical precision. Even blood work is usually turned around in 24 hours, and the results are emailed over, along with a follow up phone call. My doctor's available by email as well as during our appointments.

* The way they carry out scans is fantastic. Their experience even beats the ones we had in Toronto. They project what the sonographer's seeing onto an HDTV in 3D/4D. It's pretty amazing that they also let A stay in the whole time, rather than for the last ten minutes.

*  They have some fairly useful classes over the weekends, on topics ranging from nutrition to Lamaze to prenatal yoga. I like the flexibility involved in choosing the classes you want to go to (and I lurve the whole wheat cheese sandwiches they serve at the end, but that's irrelevant).

* Dr. Pratibha Narayan came highly recommended. She specializes in high risk pregnancies, and what I love about that is the fact that she doesn't stress about the small stuff. A chilled out doctor is your one raft of sanity in India, where most people are just so intense about pregnancy (Don't lift that! Don't travel! Eat for two! Baaah. I push back, but it's even better when your doctor pushes back too).

As for what it all costs, here's a rough rundown of what you can expect to shell out at a high-end place and a more average place. I wasn't in India for the first 4.5 months, so some of these are estimates (I've no idea how many times blood work is actually done here). Don't freak out at the big numbers, insurance will usually cover the bulk of this. Do remember to check the terms though - most providers won't cover maternity for the first 2-3 years after you take the policy.

The Entrepreneur's Wife

Last Monday, A's company's website went live. The response? Stunning. Two hundred Likes in two days. And that's just on Facebook. The encouragement and interest has been amazing to see, and I'm so happy for him. When I shared the site on my own page, I was flooded with congratulations and well wishes. I'd love to accept them all, but the truth is, this one is A's baby. I'm just the Entrepreneur's Wife.

There have been many articles about being married to a start-up founder, and how it affects you. I can't deny any of the points they bring up:

* Life without insurance, literal and otherwise, can be scary. You watch your bank balance go down, and you have a lot of time to think about safety nets and risk. The opportunity cost of sticking to a 'safe' job is far higher than that of taking a calculated risk, but knowing that objectively doesn't always drive away the subjective moments of doubt.

* Any 'auto-pilot' your relationship may have relaxed into will crash and burn. No matter how many years you've been married, or how in love you are, you'll have to really work at it, given that schedules are often changed last minute, and time's a scarce, valuable resource. I simply put dinner out on the table and go to sleep, because I know A will come in at 11:30, eat, and go on to work till 2, before sleeping till 10. Sometimes, it does seem like we're in different time zones. 

* Instead of having a whole office full of people to trade notes on and talk about, suddenly you are one of the few people your spouse interacts with. YOU are the idiot they've been dealing with all day, not their manager/colleague/report. In my case, as I've the year off, the reverse is true too. Impatience levels certainly run high - we expect the other person to be perfect, when the truth is, their perfection was especially clear on a relative scale. 

That said, there are a few factors which make the whole experience even more worthwhile and easy in our case.

* I do some freelance work for one of A's company's partners, so we invariably go into office together. It's been nearly three years since we worked out of the same space, and doing so just reminds us how our strengths and weaknesses nicely complement each other. We save each other a lot of time by talking business problems through (before you ask - no NDA's apply in this case). And it's always nice eating lunch together, or talking on the way home before it's work, work, work again.

* I'm in the uniquely lucky position of working in the same industry as A. I never wanted to be a start-up partner, but I enjoy helping out with his marketing, and I will absolutely demand a salary when his company starts making money. Until then, it's just nice not to helplessly watch from the sidelines as he powers through this.

* I'm often alone at home while A's out doing field work, or schmoozing. But, (a) I like having the house to myself every now and then to get all the chores out of the way, and (b) he shows up for doctor's appointments and anything important, no matter what. His schedule's his own, in a way that it couldn't have been at even the most flexible job. It pays off, in that he's never once missed a pregnancy related meeting, and sharing the experience with him has been special. 

For me, the most rewarding thing about watching A work on his company is seeing how much he's capable of. I eavesdrop on customer calls and marvel at his efficiency and the friendly-formal tone he manages to strike. I read his blog posts and marketing drafts, and am surprised by how much my generally reticent husband can think of to say. He's funnier, smarter, more driven, and more efficient than I could have ever imagined. 

Being unconstrained by someone else's rules has unleashed his potential in pretty much every direction, and watching him conquer areas that I know he struggles with has been amazing. I can't begin to describe the pride and happiness I feel in knowing that he isn't just subsisting from one day to the other. That, more than anything, convinces me that this experiment has been successful, no matter where we go from here.

Here's to TruckSumo.com. 

Oh, The Thinks You Can Think!

Now that I'm entering the third trimester, I wanted to stock up on the baby's first library - just 5-6 books. You won't believe how absurdly hard it is to find baby books in India. You get plenty of the paperback know-your-alphabet, know-your-numbers variety, but books that don't serve a specific (fairly boring) purpose don't seem to be in vogue. 

I shop online for the most part, so I checked BabyOye, Firstcry, and Landmark. No books for infants. Crossword had a children's fiction section, and I got excited, until I realized it included Twilight. Enough said. Flipkart actually had the best collection of all, but you wouldn't know it if you didn't search for specific titles, eg: Goodnight Moon. Otherwise, whether you sort by popularity or by price, the first few pages of search results are full of the read-to-learn type books. 

It's pretty depressing. Is no one reading to their infants just for the fun of it any more? Given most of the classics cost above Rs. 400 (for the paperback version!) and online pricing tends to be demand-driven, I'm guessing Indians aren't buying them by the bucketload. Dr. Seuss books seem to be the exception, so hopefully someone's reading those and/or they're being published here, instead of all being imported.

This super funny video says it better than I could:

One bit of silver lining was discovering a Facebook group called 'Best Book Deals for Kids.' Parents sell their used children's books here on a first-come first-served basis. I really like some of the titles posted. The only downside is that you can't guarantee seeing titles in the age range you're looking for, or that you'll be the first to grab them when they do. 

Meanwhile, if you'd really like to read to your infant but aren't sure where to start, here's my top ten list:

* The Very Hungry Caterpillar by Eric Carle

* Mother Goose by Iona Opie/Sylvia Long

* Goodnight Moon by Margaret Wise Brown and Clement Hurd

* Balloonia by Audrey Wood

* The Cat in the Hat by Dr Seuss

* Dr Seuss' Sleep Book

* Dr Seuss' One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish

* Love You Forever by Robert Munsch and Sheila McGraw

* Each Peach, Pear, Plum by Janet and Allan Ahlberg

* Guess how much I love you by Sam McBratney

I have nothing against Indian authors, but I haven't heard of any books with alliteration or simple language for very young babies. If you know of any Indian authors who write for infants, I'd love to check them out. 

This is just a list off the top of my head, and I hear it's a fact that your brain literally shrinks in the third trimester. So are there any classics I'm missing? Let me know! Reccos are also welcome for slightly older babies.

Changing the Rules

I'm completely rubbish at being Indian - I didn't think twice about leaving my husband at home while I travelled around for two months, but the idea of staying at one of our parents' places for the last two months of pregnancy is absolutely untenable. 

I have a great set of parents - natural, as well as the ones I inherited when I married. Both sets go all out to take care of me. But that's hardly the point. Marriage, as I see it, is a partnership. If you choose to parent, that becomes an inherent part of that partnership. Why, with all due respect, should we change the rules during pregnancy? Anyone else who wants to get involved is welcome but not, to be perfectly honest, vital.  

Is this just one more of those traditions that everyone takes at face value because it's too much trouble to question? I agree that if you stay in a joint family rather than with just your husband, you may be happier at your parents' place when you're heavily pregnant. But otherwise, I just don't see the logic. As long as you marry someone who's really your equal in every way, it's absurd to suggest you'd be more comfortable at your parents' house than in your own. I genuinely don't think I could be pampered at my parents' place any more  than I already am in my own. 

When he realized we're going from Double Income No Kids
to No Income One  Kid

Yes, I obviously do more work in my own house. But cooking for two or three people is hardly a hardship, especially given I'll have a maid around to clean up and wash the dishes. India, of all countries, really isn't a place where house work is ever very hard to conquer. Outsource the cooking if it gets too hard, or even the grocery shopping - in my opinion, it would be worth the slight additional expense to have A around.

He has been my partner on every step of this journey. He comes with me to doctor's appointments, and inspects maternity wards, occasionally even without me. His role does not - it can not - end when I'm seven months pregnant and begin again once I come back home with a 3-month old baby. He deserves to experience the birth of his baby... he has no less right to any of this than I do. He's the one I'm having this baby with. He is not some person who has visitation rights over weekends.

There are quite a few things that I do because I'm Indian, regardless of whether I personally believe in them or not. As I see it, if doing something doesn't trouble me, and if it pleases my relatives or my in-laws, I'm happy to oblige. But this is one of those times when tradition's just going to have to suck it up. 

India?

"Don't do it," several different cab drivers advised us, on different occasions. Or, "Makes sense. Why stay so far away from family?" 

... In Canada, any conversation is an open invitation for everyone to join in!

Seriously though, it seems like everyone has an opinion on whether to live in India. Several of our friends have decided to move abroad over the last few years. Some get official transfers, and others decide to go over and try their chances. At the same time, people who have spent years in foreign countries have also decided to move back to India in the recent past. 

For us, the question wasn't, 'Should we move back to India?' 

It was, 'Should A start his own company?' 

The answer to the latter question is a resounding yes from my side, and a slightly shakier amen from A. Moving back to India is the inevitable side effect. (We seem to believe in each other's dreams more than our own, so it all works out).

Source

I'm not saying we didn't talk it through, going over the pros and cons ad nauseum. But at the end of the day, it really boiled down to one thing - it was where he could get started with the company. His network is here. It's cheaper here. The business problem he wants to solve is more relevant here. And so here we are. The daily cons we experience - no sidewalks, no zebra crossings, and of course literal con men - don't make life easy, but are easy to ignore given we have a very good reason for being here.

That said, here's my tuppence's worth on whether you should move back to India, or stay here - nope. Not unless you have one of those solid reasons that cancel out everything else. Otherwise, even the richest person in this country still can't buy clean air, to name but one thing. 

I'm not one of those foren-returned snobs who turns up their nose at everything. Give me a break, I'm from here. None of this stuff is hard to get used to. But at the same time, it's just stupid to accept it all, when there's an alternative. I can't be one of those people who say India is the best, we invented the zero, etc. Of course I love being home and having friends and family close by (not to mention great food). But I think it's more patriotic to accept that for all its strengths, this country has some serious flaws. If you don't fret and fume about the flaws, how can you fix them? 'It's always been like this,' is just not good enough. I could spend my entire life trying to improve things in India - I've fund-raised and volunteered; I even pick up trash that's not my own - but I'm rather cynical about the outcome. I'd like to imagine this country can be fixed by the time my grandchildren grow up, but I wouldn't hold my breath. 

There are many people whose entire lives have been built here, and who are happy. But I firmly believe that they can be much happier elsewhere. Maybe there are exceptions to this rule. The strictly orthodox older demographic who've never lived anywhere else may just not be capable of change when it comes to dietary habits, for instance. My opion is addressed to my own generation, not theirs.

If you only live once, surely you'd want to live without having to fight to get the most basic necessities? I don't mean clothing and shelter, I mean efficient healthcare and decent breathing spaces. And that's why I wouldn't recommend living here if you didn't have a very good reason to.