Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Post Diwali, pre Halloween

I hate The Moment of Truth. I don't know what it is that I dislike about it - the fact that people hide/lie so much in their regular lives or that they are willing to reveal all for the sake of money. What is better - perfect honesty that breaks hearts or deceptions that protect your loved ones from heartbreak?

Before you decide that I am going all psycho/philo on you, on to lighter things - Diwali was great fun. We forgot all about calories and exercise and fitness and consumed a couple boras of sugar each in mithai. The next morning, M got on to the weighing scales and mournfully declaimed - "The human body is merciless". I was forewarned and I didn't check the damage at all. Escapism is the best form of defense.

Adi rediscovered his sweet tooth (forgotten in the love affair with the aloo parantha) and declared 'WANT' when he saw laddoos and malai pedas. Yes, yes he is our son alright. We slipped in our favourite teppenyaki meal at India Jones and with some Pater Sangiovese circulating in the system, all seemed to be well with the world. And before all of this, a bunch of us bloggers from Mumbai - Ro (in the midst of her week of sin), Kiran (accompanied by the getting cuter every day and now a big boy because he is FIVE YEARS OLD Krish) , Sur (getting international with films showing in Europe, woo hoo) and Orange Jammies (Hi, if you are reading this, OJ!) met up with The Mad Momma. MM was a little under the weather so hop across (assuming there is any reader here who does not read her, an extremely unlikely event) and send some get-well wishes her way.

On Diwali night, as always, we downloaded Om Jai Jagdish on one laptop and the lyrics on the other one and sang along while Adi ran riot wanting to climb on top of the dining table and find the 'delete all' button. Religion gets hi-tech, what can I say?

M told me that if I am missing Delhi so much, he is willing to pack me off for a week, anything to get the moping out of me. So I might just plan a trip sooner than later (and never return to Bombay, you hear?), depending on some stuff I need to do. (I almost made an error while typing out 'stuff' just now that would have made this blog plummet from 'parental guidance advised' to 'downright vulgar, avoid'.)


And now, the festival season progresses from Diwali to Halloween. I love Halloween though I have never been in a western country at that time to really experience firsthand the spookiness of it all. I am making do with watching endless horror movies these days. What about you though? Any plans?

Friday, October 24, 2008

Homesick in Mumbai

Diwali comes as a time for intense nostalgia for me. I crave Delhi - north India, actually - like never before. What I miss most - winters, real winters that send your teeth chattering and make you fish out moth ball laden woolens. Hot chocolate fudge from Nirula's. Didn't take me too long to get to food, did it? Chaat, real chaat, steaming aloo tikkis that remain hot till the last bite, covered with creamy dahi and sonth and hari chutney. No, I don't want sev and puri, thanks. And no, don't cover mine in kotmir (I used to call it dhaniya) either, thanks again. Authentic mithai - balooshahi, imarti, jalebis - the way they should be made. India Gate on misty evenings. Wide, open roads. Green roads. Lodi Garden Cafe. Defence Colony market. Dilli Haat. Plenty of parking space. No traffic jams. Punjabi aunties in nighties. Ok, I don't actually miss the last one.

This time it is more so because I haven't been that side for more than a year. I am torn between wanting to spending it in my own home, here in Mumbai and leaving everything and running off bawling MOMMMMMM to Gurgaon.

I love being here in Bandra on Christmas. Its great then, all festive lights and bakeries advertising rum-raisin cakes. I love Ganpati here, when Adi shouts dandiya-dandiya from the windows and says namoh-namoh to all the Ganpatis passing by the in the street below but now, right now, I am not really feeling at home here. Maybe its the pull of childhood memories, maybe I just don't get what I want to eat here, who is to say?

Next year.

I hope you have a happy diwali and are feeling at home, wherever (and in most cases, whoever) you are.

Thursday, October 23, 2008

Rely on you? I don't think so.

If I don't write this out, I am going to kill someone. The famous temper is rising...beware, beware...specially you, Anil Ambani.

We have had MTNL broadband for ages. It works well most of the time but come the monsoons and the connection crashes. Now in an effort to improve things, we decided to give Reliance Broadband a try. We have already had one bad experience with them and I do think Y wrote about it too. Anyway, we decided to put that past experience down to teething troubles (like a multi-million dollar company should get that handicap) and called them over again. Money was paid and two boys landed up today to wire up the connection. Well, first they could not get the wireless router to work. Forget it, I said, the resident geek can get it going again. You connect it to my laptop and show me that it works. Well, he proceeded to open Word, Excel, iPhoto, Limewire and other useless (to him) programs. What are you doing, I asked him when I saw him floundering. I am trying to get to the IP address, he responds. And you will find it in Word, how? I ask, still patient. He gives me a look. A LOOK! Like, bugger off and let me do my work. I am slowly working my way towards bashing his skull into two but still keep my cool. Apple works differently from most computers, I try to tell him. He tells me that he knows perfectly well how it works. Well, this goes on and on for some time. He calls his boss, I call Mahesh, everyone talks to each other. Finally we are connected. Except that it is taking ages to log in. After many false starts, it finally connects. I ask him a simple question and glance back just in time to see him sniggering at his colleague. That is it of course. I am ready to throttle him till his teeth shake. I tell him that he better take his buggered presence out of my house in the next five seconds or he will be physically thrown out. He has the cheek to tell me that he needs my signature before he leaves. Ask your boss to come see me, I shout and bang the door in his face. What untrained assholes, I say.

Phew, there, I am feeling better already.

More on the unsigned slip as events unfold.

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Update - 15th Oct 08

Adi has been stringing words together lately. One of his finest creations so far is - Mamma iss tv. You don't say. His relationship with the TV is going beyond the superficial and fast entering the going steady stage. In fact his favourite pastime seems to be sitting in my lap, sucking his thumb and watching TV. While other kids his age are well on their way to becoming prodigies, my child is quite content looking out for his favourite ads during the commercial slots. Maybe he knows mom went to ad school (help me here, I am clutching at straws). I would have done something about it but I am way too busy furiously downloading songs from Limewire.


R Sir continues to berate me for my absolute lack of skill, balance and power. However, he recently told our friend J (fellow squash learner at R Sir's) that the reason he makes me run about so much and makes me do all sorts of drills is not because I am fat but because I can. This is the same logic that made me quit my job. The better you are at your work, the more work you get. I am giving squash another chance though.


Recently during a Sunday brunch at Olive, the girl next to me turned to me to ask if she could use a cushion lying between us. I generously parted with the cushion and then the realization hit me. Oh my god, that girl is Ritu Shivpuri! Ritu who? you might ask. Well, not me. I am the champion mini celebrity spotter in this household and am always correctly identifying people who owe their fame entirely to a rag supplement called Bombay Times and sometimes (as in the case above) not even that. This is truly ironical because every single morning M asks me what I would like to read and then hands me the pink papers and the main section of TOI while he grabs the Bombay Times and toodles off to the loo. I must be just naturally talented then because I have not been known to fail at this game yet. Finally, something that I can beat him at. As is wont in Bombay, I will spot someone mildly famous and then gently nudge M and whisper - don't look now but I think I have just spotted Mimoh/unknown model/unknown reality show winner. At this M will immediately turn around and shout - WHO? WHERE? I CAN'T SEE! SHOW, SHOW! If I don't oblige, I am threatened with a swift divorce.

We really don't have a life, do we?


Ritu Shivpuri is best remembered for her 1993 blockbuster Aankhen. This film is remarkably described by this website as a film where 'Two unwitting brothers become involved in schemes with evil people'. A truly succinct synopsis if there ever was one.


Friday, October 10, 2008

Life's jinga-la-la (not so much)

We got Tata Sky installed a couple days back. I have no clue as to how this is different from a regular cable connection except -

  • there is a dish involved, making it all very high-tech and requiring obscene amounts of extra charges for the wire
  • there is a set-top box involved, giving Adi the option of unplugging one more device
  • there is an additional remote involved, confusing the hell out of Padma when she tries to switch the darned thing on - achha, pehle box ka power on karna hai iss remote se, phir TV on karna hai uss remote se, phir guide ka button dabana hai, phir list infinitum (I like these Latin phrases, they make the most mundane sentences sound glamorous...wait, they are Latin only, no?)
  • there are Tata Indicom connections involved since that is what all the Tata Sky staff uses, rendering any sort of communication between us Vodaphone users and them completely impossible
  • there is channel selection involved and since we don't particularly prefer Alpha Marathi to Star Bangla, we have just taken the dealer's word for whatever's cheapest.

Given that I am the sort of person who can never remember the numbers on which channels are set ("Where is Star World? I think its 19. No, 31! No, no, 85! OK, I give up."), Tata Sky is working out pretty well for me. Last night after both Adi and I had finished dinner, I decided to watch a movie, given that M is starving in Paris (all vegetarians starve in Paris and pretty much the rest of Europe, agree?). Ice Age was playing. I figured that it would be something that the boy would enjoy too. We haven't really started him on cartoons, given that its critical that he learns to appreciate raunchy Bollywood songs such as Mhaari Teetri first. But I loved Ice Age myself so I figured that it would be a good start. Well, I was highly mistaken. I mean, the human baby gets stolen by Diego and then his mom dies and then he is hungry and wailing and.....obviously Adi couldn't take it and started howling himself. I hastily shut all the buttons off (TV off with TV remote, set-top box off with Tata Sky remote and so on..) and decided to call it a night. Apparently, Ice Age is not the only animated feature that's unsuitable for children. Check this out. Anything they have missed out?

Wednesday, October 8, 2008

What, me, a sore loser?

R Sir, the squash coach is a perfect gentleman when he first sees you. He inquires after Adi and offers kind explanations as to why kids his age don't sleep well (teeth trouble,apparently).

But once you put on your non-marking shoes and enter the hallowed glass door, you're doomed. The gentleman assumes the air of a particularly frustrated army general.

"Aaj nashta nahin khaya kya?" - Response to my rather weak backhand.

"Bhaago, bhaago, why are you so slow?" - When I have crashed into the wall in an attempt to get a ball and have a couple cracked ribs to show for it.

"Uff, such an easy ball, yeh bhi nahin utha sakte?" - When the ball turned in a completely different way than the one I had anticipated.

"Stretchhhhhhhh, Stretchhhhhh" - When my body refuses to transmogrify into a elastic band.

"Swingggg, swinggg, racquet ko rok kyon rahe ho, jaane do" - when I have apparently stopped the bloody racquet from going where it wants to.

The session ends and he is back to his amiable self while my ego has assumed the size of a malnourished pea. I try to offer an explanation for my reportedly dismal performance and he tells me, "Abhi aap mummy ban gaye ho na...isiliye bhool jaate ho." Obviously this ruffles my feathers no end. I will show you, you patronizing...R sir...I vow to myself.

At the next session, I revise all the points - stretch and reach the ball, ball should in front of you, there should a racquet's length between you and the ball, hold the racquet up till the ball bounces, swing fully, hit above the line....for all my efforts, my natural game goes for a toss, sigh, unfortunate pun, and I am left feeling really bereft.

To add insult to injury(figuratively, I am doing fine, thank you), apparently M's playing quite well. Its my years of tennis, he consoles me. I will smash your face, I respond politely. His chortles resound all over the house. To make matters worse, he is also beating me by a resounding margin at Guitar Heroes. I mean, its my game. Yes, but I have been more of a gamer than you have, he explains beatifically.

Have you noticed what big words I have been using in this post - beatifically, bereft. Not bad, eh?

Anyway, so all this is really getting to me. Of course I don't have a competitive streak in me at all. Naturally. But it would be nice to win once in a while. Maybe a lot of the time. Maybe even all the time.

Friday, October 3, 2008

Seventeen month letter

Dear Adi,

Seventeen months today and I know now that there is a reason why babies this age fool their parents into having more. Children, that is. Not alcohol. THAT is at three months when colic hits and you feel so bloody helpless you want to shoot the doctor who tells you cheerfully 'it'll pass' in the head. No,
this is nice. This is the age that you've gotten adorable and that's great obviously. But it also means that you're growing up and if there's one thing I have learnt in the past fifteen months, it's this - there is no pace of this growing up business that you can set up that's slow enough for me, thank you.

Writing these updates has gotten way more difficult since you decided that you need to climb onto my lap as soon as I open the laptop (the irony of it all just blows my mind) and declaim loudly - PRESS. But hey, you can identify the space bar correctly already and I am all set to be a hugely supportive mother as you begin your journey to be the youngest ever some-computer-thingie-genius.

This fascination for electronics extends itself to constantly unplugging things and when I say constantly I mean that I can never find the place where I left off in Desperate Housewives Season Four because when I turned my back for four seconds you took the DVD out, switched the radio on and off a couple times and then unplugged the entire thing including the internet connection off.

Kids learn by imitation. I had no idea just how true this is till you started calling your father Mahesh, your nanny Pamma and our cook Shippa. All very cute but I think its time for me to start referring to them as Daddy, Akka and Aunty respectively. Fun times. What is flattering here is that you copy me and not M. Ha, ha, take that, sucker. I mean, love of my life, my dear husband.

In the midst of all this you fell ill with a respiratory tract infection, a scary name for a bad cough. It breaks my heart when I see you ill, child and I swear I am worse than a bear with a migraine (who came up with this phrase anyway? Bear? Migraine?) when you're sick. So don't do that again, yes? Thank you.
Sickness apart, you sleep better than ever before. The three am waking to ask for Tanni (water) continues (you'll have me talking fluent Tam soon, what?) but other than that you sleep pretty much through the night. And then at the crack of dawn, you sense the soft light filtering into the room through the micro-milimetre thick cracks in the curtain and you kick me awake. And after that, though you go right back to sleep, I am wide-awake, waiting for the day to begin and cursing myself for not being an easy sleeper. I KNOW, I KNOW, you take after me in the sleep department but that doesn't make it any easier.

You take after me in other ways too. Here's you with a toy guitar that M picked up for you from his last trip. A few weeks back you'd sabotaged the same toy at another child's house.

And err, here's your mother with her guitar toy. (Its awesome and I will let you play with me when you're past the unplug-everything stage.)

Lately, the first hints of a temper, slow to rise but pretty bad when it does, are also beginning to show. Sigh.
Yes, you are like me in a lot of ways, Adi. We're going to have some fun, my boy.


Just dial dial, just dial (to be sung to the tune of just chill, chill, just chill)

M and I have a relationship that is built on clearly defined skill-sets. He is ex IIM-A, works with a private equity firm and is a conservative Tam-Bram. You get the picture. If you don't, maybe you need to see if its a jpeg under 2 MB. Ho ho ho. And me - I am just adorable.

Everyone settle down. You will get your chance to voice your protest. No need to resort to abusive language.

Right, to get back to the (honest) account of our relationship, it helps that my lord and master is a hyper-planning type person. Let me illustrate:

On a holiday, foreign country, bank-balance debited by an unreasonable amount in order to relax and generally chill out:

M: "Now let us see. We're in xyz city. I have checked out the local train timetable. We should finish seeing museums and other important sites by 5:30 pm. Then we can grab dinner at this place at about seven. Then we can get an early start tomorrow and if we take the 7:00 am train to abc city via efg town, we should be at mno at 9:00 am. Now Adi will need a feed every two hours so we need to pack 24 tsps of formula...Parul, Parul? What, sleepy? Need a drink? Ok, I can pencil in half an hour at a pub somewhere....back to the planning...."

Don't get me wrong. I like it. All this is great because it allows me to live out my poet/musician fantasy quite well. When I say fantasy, I mean I wanted to be a poet or musician. What were you thinking?

As I was saying before you led me astray was that I drift about quite a bit. I am the one who has forgotten to switch the geyser off every single day for the last four years. My phone regularly dies on me (those things are supposed to be charged, who could have said?), I miss putting the water-bottle next to the bed before sleeping so that when Adi needs his favoured drink aka TANNI at three in the morning, I need to get up and get it and bang my shin against the bed both while going and getting back, I forget dates (not anymore though thanks to Facebook) and I can never remember names (except yours of course, dear reader).

As I said, I do adorable. Not efficient.

(P.S. - If you are a recruiter doing pre-placement research on me, please treat this blog as a work of fiction, thank you.)

And therefore, Just Dial is my lifeline. I call them when I cannot for the life of me remember if there is an adidas store on Linking Road at all. I call them when I have misplaced the number of Out of the Blue for the hundredth time and have already told M that the reservation is done. I call them when I have gotten lost getting to the DVD library that we have been to only five hundred times in the last few years.

So, essentially, I love and respect Just Dial very much. Muah, muah.

However, when I have expressly told them not to give my number out to random people, I expect to be obeyed. Or at the very least, the random people should be somewhat related to my query.

After the adidas question, for example, I was swamped with calls from movers and packers of all shapes and sizes.

Random guy: "Hello, Parul Madam? Aapko movers and packers chahiye? Hum India mein kahin bhi move kar denge!" (Hello, Parul Madam? Do you need movers and packers? We will move anywhere in India!)
P: Nahin chahiye. Ek minute, call waiting. Hello? (I don't want it. Just a minute, call waiting. Hello?)
Random guy # 2: "Hello, Parul Madam? Aapko movers and packers chahiye? Hum India mein kahin bhi move kar denge!"(Hello, Parul Madam? Do you need movers and packers? We will move anywhere in India!)
P: Yikes! I am in the mouth of madness.

And there was that one time when I was being accosted by furniture peddlers. Maybe they read my blog. Maybe Just Dial was to blame.

Furniture Fellow: Heylo Madam, aapko ghar ka furniture chahiye ya office ka? (Heylo Madam, do you furniture for home or office?)
P: Nahin chahiye. Aapko yeh number kisne diya? (I don't want it. Who gave you my number?)
FF: Madam, hum Borivali se Bandra tak supply karte hain. (We will supply anywhere between Borivali and Bandra.)
P: Very good par bola na nahin chahiye. Aapko Just Dial ne number diya hai na? (That's very good but I said I don't want it. Did Just Dial give you my number?)
FF: Madam, egg-se-queue-tiv ko bhej doon catalog lekar? Address please? (Madam, should I send my executive with a catalog?)
P: Abbey bola na nahin chahiye, samajh nahin aata kya? (Didn't I just say I don't want it, don't you get it?)
FF (hurt): Just dial ne bola tha aapko furniture maangta hai. (Just Dial sid you wanted furniture.)

Resultantly, I am off Just Dial for good now. Good old internet baba to the rescue.

See, this is how relationships sour. Moral of the story: Stick to your skill-set and don't try to overdo a good thing. Now let me go check if the geyser is switched off

Thursday, October 2, 2008

Knowing me knowing you

And today we have the immensely popular Mad Momma telling us how the kids just get her. Going by empirical evidence, may I please ensconce my tongue firmly in one cheek and remind you that comments are moderated? Thank you very much.

One of the things we mothers take pride in, is knowing our children.

You know, saying 'Oh I know my child loves X or Y'. Of course then said child lets you down by promptly doing whatever it is that you swear they hate doing. Like - oh he doesn't eat carrots - at which points he digs his grubby hands into the salad bowl and pulls out what else?! But a stick of carrot. While she gives you this whole Doesn't-this-mother-know-what-her-child-likes look.

Barring the odd socially embarassing moment, I pride myself on knowing what my kids are like and what they like. The Brat trips on animals, trains, momos, the colour red and the song Pappu Can't Dance.

I know the Bean loves cats, donkeys, her blue fake crocs and the song Kabhi Kabhi Aditi.

But what I didn't know is that they know what I like too. I usually listen to music on youtube while I work and the kids float in and out doing their own thing. The OA goes nuts when I have a new favourite because then I listen to it on repeat for days on end. So I spend the day listening to what I want and turn it off when he comes home. But obviously someone is listening and storing it away.

Today as the first bars of Kahin Toh rang out on the radio the Brat looked up with bright eyes and said - 'Mama - this is your song!'

And they were right. My little babies know me too!!

Wednesday, October 1, 2008

All about me

Preeti had tagged me very sweetly a while back. Right then.

1. What have you realized recently?

That I cannot watch an entire season of Desperate Housewives over a weekend anymore.

2. Have you given your first kiss away?

Let me see now. Boyfriends, fiance, husband, kid. I am thinking that would be a yes. (I think this tag was originally made for pre-teen bloggers.)

3. If you were to be stranded on a deserted island, who are the 5 blog buddies you would take?

Hasn't this question been done to death? I would take the five hottest bloggers, preferably male with me. Applications accepted here. Please remember comments are moderated.

4. Where is the place you want to go the most?

Istanbul, as of now.

5. If you have one dream to come true, what would it be?

To see my child happy and healthy and good-looking and desirable and secure and loved and funny and witty and popular and wise and rich and generous and successful and humble and respected and dignified - yeah, basically he should be just like me.

6. Do you believe in seeing the rainbow after the rain?

Not literally, no. But I am a pretty happy trooper otherwise.

7. What are you afraid of losing the most now?

I will tell you what I'd like to lose - the couple spare tyres that think they can make permanent residence around my waist. Be warned - I am out to get you, brethren of Dunlop.

8. If you win $1 million, what would you do?

Louis Vuitton. Cartier. Manolos. Like there is an option.

9.If you meet someone that you love, would you confess to him/her?

I am guessing M wouldn't be crazy about that idea so I think keeping to self would be somewhat better and a tad more prudent.

10. List out 3 good points about the person who tagged you

I don't know her at all so wouldn't like to take the liberty but she sounds like a very committed mom :-)

11.What are the requirements that you wish from your other half?

Foot massage, every night.

12. What type of people do you hate the most?

I don't hate anyone, dude. I just destroy them with my sarcasm. Wow, that sounded cool. Gotta use it more often.

13. What is the one thing you can’t live without?

I am trying to quit, I really am!

14. If you have faults, would you rather the people around you point out to you or would you rather they keep quiet?

That is not relevant in my case.

15. this Q has been stolen (

Well, ok.

16. Are you a shopaholic or not?

I have unopened shopping bags in my closet so.....

17.Find a word to describe the person who tagged you

At the risk of sounding hugely imaginative - Nice!

18.If you have a chance, which part of your character you would like to change?

Tough call. I think I am good.

19. What’s the last shocking thing you’ve seen or heard?

.........yeah, well go ahead, tell me.

20. Would you rather have love but no money or money but no love?

Option C?

I tag:

Whoever feels like taking this away. No pressure.


And a while back, Threedrinksahead (love that name!) had tagged me with this.

RULE #1: People who have been tagged must write their answers on their blogs and replace any question that they dislike with a new question formulated by themselves.
RULE #2: Tag 6 people to do this quiz and those who are tagged cannot refuse. These people must state who they were tagged by and cannot tag the person whom they were tagged by continue this game by sending it to other people.

1. If your lover betrayed you, what will your reaction be?
Who was it who said, "If I catch you cheating on me, I will cut your insert-colloquial-word-for-male-reproductive-organ-right-here into tiny pieces"? Oh wait, that would be me.

2. If you can have a dream to come true, what would it be?
Villa in Como, baby. Don't want to think deep right now. Yes, it doesn't come easy to me.

3. Whose butt would you like to kick?

:D Is this tag for real?

4. What would you do with a billion dollars?
Pay attention when I talk about villas by Lake Como.

5. Will you you fall in love with your best friend?
Yeah, sure. I don't know how she would react though.

6. Which is more blessed, loving someone or being loved by someone?
Being loved. I like receiving presents.

7. How long do you intend to wait for someone you really love?
42 days. I am sorry, how do you put a number to something like this?

8. If the person you secretly like is already attached, what would you do?
Try to make them break up?

9. If you’d like to act with someone, who will it be? Your GF/BF or an actress/actor?
If there are words like GF/BF and all in this tag, I think I am too old for it! I like Ethan Hawke.

10. What takes you down the fastest?
PMS, diets, early morning flights.

11. How would you see yourself in ten years time?

12. What’s your fear?
All Adi-related.

13. What kind of person do you think the person who tagged you is?
Funny and witty and nice.

14. Would you rather be single and rich or married but poor?
Single and rich.

15. What’s the first thing you do when you wake up?
Curse the pigeons that are cooing away on top of the AC, listen to them for a few seconds, decide that they are not so bad after all and then cover Adi with a comforter.

16. Would you give all in a relationship?
All meaning? You mean like....? Really?

17. If you fall in love with two people simultaneously, who would you pick?
I wouldn't. Why mess with a good thing?

18. Would you forgive and forget no matter how horrible a thing the someone has done?
Erm, no. The thing is I am hugely vindictive.

19.Do you prefer being single or having a relationship?
I don't do alone very well so I guess the only alternate is to have a relationship.

20. List 6 people to tag:
Whoever feels like doing this X 6 (What? I am tired!)

And an award from Cuckoo- Thank you very much. I'd like to pass it on to the Mumbai Mommy Bloggers - I don't meet them very often but they are friends, so...take it away - Kiran, Ro, Sur and Y. Oh wait, Y doesn't qualify as a Mumbai resident anymore but what the heck, I am the one giving the award. And also, to Mona. Just.