Time-Off

Parents esp. of smaller kids go through their days trying to adjust everyday to their new demanding lifestyle and at times yearning for the days of carefree pre-kid lifestyle.
We are no different - going through our day jobs and coming back to the busy kid-filled evenings ending in a sigh before sleep and then with a couple of deep breaths the next morning, the madness starting all over again!

Looking for a little break from our overloaded lives, a few days ago - we decided to take a day off from work. Sending our little one to the daycare, we ended up at a theater for a movie.
We did try this dinner/movie date a couple of times earlier this year, when my parents could baby-sit our son, but did end up talking about him all through the dinner :-) Even through the movie, my thoughts were going back to my baby - whether he had eaten or if he was throwing a fit. So, we came back feeling no different than if we had been home with him - not a very successful time-off for us.
I guess it is to be expected since our whole lives revolve around the kids these days and we find it hard to let-go even for a few hours.

Anyway, coming back to the present - for the first time in 3 and half years, we actually enjoyed the movie and our conversations were not about our little one. It was great, relaxed - almost like our pre-kid days :-) It was also a little surreal with a twinge of guilt but apart from that we had a wonderful time.

As we were driving back, we somehow got into an argument which ofcourse related to our little one. The irony of it was how comfortable I felt with just our mundane daily chatter - too prosaic for everyone else but I was almost happy to be back and remember thinking "I know this - its my world!" :-)

Raindrops on Roses

It is amazing what idle 'googling' might just return - in my case was a short story published in Sulekha 7 years ago, my first one! Reading it again felt a little strange - almost like it was written in a different world. I guess it was - fresh out of school, looking for a job and of course single & starry-eyed :-) Here it is..

http://shalini-siddhanti.sulekha.com/blog/post/2002/11/raindrops-on-roses.htm

Raindrops on Roses

Settling on her favorite chair on the porch with a cup of coffee, Deeksha gazed at the heavy dark skies. It looked as if it would pour anytime now. She loved the rain. It gave her a sense of almost celestial excitement. She felt as if the heavens were trying to reach her by melting the clouds in the skies.

Vishwas never did like the rains and preferred sunny weather. They had once debated about the relative merits of the weather. It was one of the numerous differences they had. She smiled at the thought of him. He was one of those unflappable human species with complete confidence in his ideas and abilities.

They could never agree on a single viewpoint. Their inaugural argument was on the day they first met at a friend's wedding. After the party, he offered to drop her home and walking towards the parking lot there was this cute little girl selling glorious long stemmed red roses. Deeksha could never resist red roses. They seemed to convey a special meaning of love and passion. She had stopped by and bought a couple of them. Vishwas had started off with “Flowers are supposed to be on trees.” She retorted, “These roses are grown specially to be sold.” They had argued about it all the way back home.

That was almost eight months ago and since then they would squabble at every opportunity. They talked about everything – from philosophy to sex, from politics to sports. And fought on most of the occasions. They were a world of contrasts. Deeksha was very fair with above average looks and a petite figure compared to his tall, dark and geeky frame. He liked to refer to himself as tall, dark and handsome -- of which 'handsome' was debatable. She was what he called an eternal optimist. Despite the odds she believed something wonderful awaited her around the corner. He was a cynical and hardheaded realist. Deeksha was a sensitive and intense person -- getting excited and as easily upset for small issues. He had a cool and utterly logical attitude that sometimes frustrated her. How can anybody not be spontaneous. Their frequent interaction (it was more likely their consistent bickering) drew them closer and she was getting used to his presence. He knew all her moods -- when she was happy, when she was feeling lonely, when she was disturbed and what pissed her off. She told him everything she did from the time she got up till she went to bed. It felt natural. And Deeksha demanded to know how he spent his day. In the beginning he used to get irritated by the story telling of the day. But after sometime, he actually started liking it. They talked about their dreams, ambitions, family and almost everything. There were times when she had actually dozed off while talking to him.

The last time they met had been a couple of days before his India trip. They had gone for a late night movie after having dinner at a Burmese restaurant. When he was dropping her home, she remembered that he had asked for books to read on the plane. While she had gone to get the books, he had by chance picked up her diary lying in the living room:

Sometimes I wonder how
within such a short while
We became so comfortable
close and easy to be with…

I will forever treasure our
moments together
And cherish our friendship
with all its experiences

So, no matter what the future
may hold for us
-our distinct paths may lead us
-our different destinies may drive us

Hoping to be somewhere in your thoughts!

Just as he finished reading, she had snatched the book from his hands declaring it as private. He apologized and said he didn't know she wrote poems. She blushed, “Nah…I just pen my thoughts sometimes.” He murmured something about it being nice and the next thing she knew was they were arguing about the contents of her writings -- whether something predetermined really existed. Deeksha believed in destiny and that God had created each individual for a purpose. On the other hand, Vishwas had firm convictions that it was up to an individual as to how he carved his future. And by the time they realized it was almost 6.00 am. They had been talking all night. Since it was summer, it was already dawn. They had looked out of the window at the bright light of the world and had laughed so much. It was one of the experiences she cherished the most.

Pulling her thoughts to the present, Deeksha looked around while trying to sort out her feelings. It was raining heavily now. She could see the campus from her apartment. It was deserted except for a couple of kids across the street getting drenched and laughing. Vishwas had come back from India this morning. She wanted to call him up but had been busy with the assignments and classes all day. And besides he would be tired. She would give it a try that night.

All these months, they had shared a wonderful friendship. Her emotions towards him had taken a different turn since he left. She started realizing what he meant to her when he wasn't around. And after a few days she literally started counting the days as to when he would return. She missed hearing his voice, telling him about those small and irrelevant incidents. He had mailed her twice from India, once informing her that he had reached safely and the other asking if she wanted something from there. She hadn't realized how much she had become dependent on him, always counting on his mature advice and caring support whenever she needed it.

How would she ever let Vishwas know about her feelings now? She didn't have a clue whether he thought about her in the same way. What if he always considered her as his best friend? She didn't mind conveying her thoughts. But if he didn't feel the same way, wouldn't it ruin a perfectly wonderful friendship they had shared? And even if he loved her, there was this huge issue about her family. How in the world would he be able to handle it? She hoped the difference in her feelings wouldn't show when they met.

A familiar figure walking towards the apartment apparently drenched interrupted her thoughts. Vish! Her heart skipped several beats. Instinctively -- she ran towards him and stopped a few feet away. Her heart was beating so loudly that she was afraid he would hear it. Looking into her eyes he said simply, “I've missed you.” Startled she replied breathlessly, “I missed you too.” Vishwas removed his hand from behind his back, which held a dozen red roses. She took the bouquet, staring at the raindrops on the lovely red roses as if it were an omen of something beautiful that was about to happen. Then looking up, Deeksha searched his face for an explanation. “Isha, I have not been able to get you out of my mind. Being away from you and your poem made me think about us beyond friendship. I still don't believe in destiny but I want our paths together leading to the same destination. Will you be my present and my future?” He was the only one outside her family who called her Isha. Sensing her concern he continued, “I can understand the resistance from our families. It's going to take time to convince them but eventually we'll win.” Cupping her face with his hands and looking into her eyes he said, “Trust me, Isha. We will work it out. Give us a chance.” Instantly her fears vanished -- with sparkling eyes and a smile that lit his heart, she hugged him fiercely.

Frowning he then said, “Now that my chivalrous romantic proposal has been accepted, can we go in for better surroundings? The bloody rain is soaking my insides.” She started to argue, suddenly laughed seeing his mischievous eyes, “You go ahead, and I'll join you in a minute.” She looked up at the skies and closed her eyes as the rain danced on her face, holding the bunch of roses near her heart -- thanked the heavens for blessing her with this moment.

Hope

It has been a couple of months since I started working at the ‘Zam Zam’ café. The high ceilings and big windows of the small café allowed for some air circulation and a little extra light in otherwise a small and dingy place. The people who dropped in were usually day laborers were not really bothered by the cracked walls, musty interiors and the wobbly tables. The place was relatively clean and food was inexpensive. The menu was written on a black board near the entrance and the list included different kinds of tea, coffee and snacks along with few lunch/dinner items. My job was to clear and clean the tables, wash the dishes, and to sweep and mop the kitchen and café floor twice a day. The pay wouldn’t be enough if not for the free lunch and dinner. I had no complaints.

It definitely was better than my earlier stint of helping Munna Bhai sell pirated CDs. Being out in the sun all day along with being on constant alert for police roundups for measly few bucks was just not worth it. And because Munna’s cracking voice sounded like a squeal whenever he talked, he made me do the shout-out advertising to attract the passersby. Though he was older to me by a couple of years, he would boss me around as if he owned me. That smart-ass thought he was better than the rest just because he knew how to read. I am certain that I can recognize all the letters of the alphabet and almost write my name too. In a few more years, I bet I can do better than that idiot.

Working late today didn’t bother me as the café would be closed tomorrow on account the wedding in the owner’s family. I was finishing up with the dishes and the cook barked his usual orders for cleaning up while setting aside the leftovers for my dinner. I barely heard him as my thoughts were already making plans for tomorrow’s day off. I would visit my old neighborhood where there is a used book sale on the sidewalk every weekend. I had saved enough to maybe to even buy a book. I knew the seller and he probably would help me pick one. My walk home felt shorter and my steps seemed bouncier in anticipation.

As I was nearing the bridge, I heard angry voices coming from behind the concrete pillar. I stopped and tried to think if I would be looking for trouble by approaching. My heart was thudding as I inched a little closer and the swearing and threatening from the other side grew louder. I tried to get a peak of what was going on and noticed a younger man pointing a black shiny revolver threatening to shoot an older gentleman. I was near enough to hear the muffled shot being fired. And the guy with the gun swung around to look in the direction of that involuntary yelp. As I stood rooted there in shock, the last thing I remember hearing was the sound of my own scream.

I tried to open my eyes, but they are shut tight by something sticky. My mouth feels dry. I try to wet my lips but it my throat is parched. The pain shoots through my stomach and my head starts throbbing. I try to lift my arm to touch my face but nothing moves. With much effort I half-open my eyes and everything is dark. I cry for help but a whimper escapes my lips. And it hurts all over again.

I yearn for the warmth that I never experienced. I try to picture a kind face to comfort me, but none comes to mind.
Hope kept me alive, helped me survive through the years of relentless days and hungry nights. But as the years passed by, the hope began to fade away and turned to nothingness until tonight.

As the noise of the traffic above me on the bridge slowly morph into a rhythmic hum, my favorite sound of the ringing school bell and the faint chatter of kids take over my senses. And among those tired happy young faces full of life is me! No more tattered clothes, blistered bare feet or tousled hair. And in my arms close to my chest are my dreams – my books! I look down at them and actually can read and understand the written word. I am ready as I’ve always been to begin a new journey to discover a world where I am not at mercy of others. My heart will ache no more looking at the carefree faces of the kids my age for I will be one of them.

As a gentle breeze cools my wounds, I open my eyes to see a scrap of the newspaper gliding and rested a little away from me. With difficulty, I stretch my arm and reach for it. I clench the paper in my hand and gather it close to me. I can feel the world that has escaped me all these years.
As I get ready to step into a wonderful world of my dreams, my fingers clutch onto the scrap of paper tighter. And suddenly a volcano erupts inside me shaking me all over and I can feel the hot lava in my eyes blinding me - and just like that, it is black again!

-End-

Memory Piece

I remember the day I first met him.

As I hung up the phone after giving him directions to my apartment, his very familiar number disappearing off the screen. Though I could recognize his number anywhere, I had not saved it. It sounds weird now, after months of conversations and actually meeting in less than half hour. But well, he is not going to go through my cell!

I look around the room once more and find a small crumpled paper in the corner under the table. After tossing it in the wastebasket, on second thought, I hide the basket in the closet.

I’m forgetting something. I frown trying to focus. Yes, the incense! I quickly clean the stand off the ashes from the old burn and light up a fresh one with sandalwood scent. The thin streak of smoke disseminates and the fragrance quickly fills the room. I open up the windows just in case the scent is overpowering for him, and, as usual, the neighbors’ blank white wall stares back from 10 feet away. I stick my neck out the window to see if it is still overcast, but the sky is barely visible. This stupid awning prevents any kind of upward view. According to the forecast, it is supposed to be cloudy with the temperature in the low 60s today. So much for the almost-summer June weather!

The reflection of a slender petite girl with glasses doesn’t do much to assure me. I look at my jeans and black sweater in the mirror and sigh. I wanted to wear the new breezy yellow dress that I had bought from Macy’s last week. But it looks like the weather has something else in mind.

It is my dad’s 58th birthday today. I already called and wished him a happy birthday first thing this morning. Of course, there was no mention of this guy I’m meeting today. I feel a tinge of guilt and quickly brush it off. I am in no mood to either answer or dodge his lengthy interview starting with “Who is this boy?!”

Involuntarily, I glance at the clock and 20 minutes have already passed. He could be here any minute now! It feels very quiet, with just faint noise from the occasional cars outside. At the sound of a car coming to a stop, my mouth feels dry. My heart seems to be almost thudding against the chest wall, threatening to fall out. I slowly make my way to the window facing the driveway and peek through drawn blinds. It is him – parallel parking his car. Here I am, trying discretely to get my first look at him, and out of nowhere, the sun peeks through the clouds, and shines directly on the driver’s window. Squinting for a clearer view doesn’t help - the sun’s reflection is too bright. The door opens and he steps out and my breathing just stops. Glancing away from the main entrance, through the window blinds, he looks right at me, and smiles.

Short Story assignment

This was one of my assignments for the creative writing course. The idea was to write a 50-word*5-para short story….

FIRSTS
--------

My interview is in 20 minutes for a C++ programmer position. It is my first technical interview and the preparation of the past few hours wasn’t helping the empty feeling I had in the pit of my stomach. To calm my nerves, I made myself a cup of coffee and as soon as I took my first sip, I realized it was too hot. Damn, burnt my tongue!

---

I step into the rental car with my list of ads and the printout of directions from Philadelphia to New York City. My lungs fill with lingering mustiness laced with cigarette smoke. I roll down the windows for fresh air. There is no time to exchange the car. I have only this weekend, today and tomorrow, to find an accommodation before starting my new job on Monday.

---

As soon as I come out of Holland Tunnel, I hear the first honk directed at me. At least, I think it was. Immediately I know I will hate driving in this city just like millions of others do. I look around and everybody seems to be honking. The noise pollution combined with the smell of the car triggers a migraine.

---

Walking down the 42nd street from the office towards Port Authority bus terminal, I am in no hurry to get home. It is only 5 pm and the Times Square is already lit with neon. I look up towards the darkened sky. I stretch my hand to catch snowflakes but they melt at my touch, leaving tiny droplets.

---

My first free weekend, went to Queens with a couple of friends to see the New York City skyline. The view was breathtaking. I didn’t know that looking at a series of concrete buildings so soothing. Downtown was transformed into a million of glitter bugs by evening.

---

Mar-kid-ting

The other day we 'had to' go to the Disney store because we needed to buy something right next door. Shopping with a toddler is tough task in itself but with the kiddie wonderland so close - is easier said than done. So, the genius idea was to distract and hurry him past the Disney store and finish our work before stepping into 'forever land'.

But of course, there was no escaping the big familiar red sign.. And so, the next 15 minutes were intense, trying to grasp our little runner and deciding together on the selection. Once done, and even before the item was paid for – daddy and the lil’ donut were already next door.

Once inside the Disney store, we knew it would be a while. So, I made myself comfortable browsing and looking around; it was amusing to watch the tired expressions of the parents wanting to get out and excited faces of the kids wanting to stay in forever. Yes, I knew we would have the same look as soon as this amusement wore off.

The next challenge was to make it out of the store with minimum damage (of course, to our wallets!!). And the "mar-kid-ting" began; just like every other parent in the store, we started trying to market the least expensive item to our finicky child whereas he invariably picked up the most attractive (expensive) toy.

All in all, we got out of the store with the minimum loss and of course had the “We did it!” looks on our faces :-D and our little peanut was just as happy with his “Buzz-Woody” t-shirt. Though this is just the tiny one of those many many more “mar-kid-ting” moments to come, it doesn’t feel any less satisfying! :-)

Raising happy kids..

A couple of days ago, came across the caption "What We're Missing By Raising Happy Kids" on
NPR.org - http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=106307536

The title, ofcourse caught my attention as we try to learn parenting from the online world and pick the best approaches to raising our kids into perfect adults :-)
The author's point in this article is interesting. He compares the old world bringing-up to new-age parenting. I'm not sure if I agree to everything written but do think that the basic premise of singled-out parental attachment towards their kids and the changing attitudes stemmed by it, is probably true.

We all know that our children are going through very different social dynamics compared to what we've experienced - in both positive and negetive aspects.
I think for us, the process of learning came not just from our parents and teachers - but also from the other members of the family and friends of a close-knit community and also making the phrase 'It takes the whole village to raise a child' more true to life.
The world has since become much smaller - thanks to technology, and yet children are missing out on those important family connections outside of parents. And that leaves parents to be deeply involved in every single aspect of their upbringing which I think is absolutely essential, but the pressure of being the only ones in their lives and the urge to protect them from the slightest of disappointment is probably the downside to it.

All said and done, I guess today's parents are trying as hard as any previous generation - if not more to give their kids the best within the means at their disposal.
Go, parenting!

When I was a baby..

My li'l one turned three last month and his favorite phrase these days seems to be "When I was a baby.."When he is not allowed to or even when he doesn't want to do something, he immediately with an all-knowing nod goes "When I was a baby, I used to / (didn't) do that!!" Doesn't matter if he even remembers or not what he did the day before but it is pretty cute when he says it with all his wisdom of 3 years.
And is also interesting when you think about how that phrase gets caught on this early and we don't let go of it all through our lives. On the contrary, it gets stronger over the years as we've all heard our parents, grandparents begin most of their lectures with "when we were kids(young)...." looking through our rolling eyes into their distant past and sighing longingly at their great times!
And you know what is great now?!School is out, graduations parties all around and summer is here! Guess that's our fun present.I love this time of the year, probably more so because the second half of the year has more long weeknds. Even if we srew-up one long wknd, there is always another one right around the corner :-) And the best of all is that the sun is still out & bright when I'm picking up my little one from the daycare.
Happy Summer. And who knows, you might just get yet another chance in future to say "The summers, when I was young... :-)

Social Networking

Okay, who is on atleast one if not on all of those SNS's? Wrong question, these days huh?!As you can guess, I'm one of the late entrants into this online social world.

Although last year my sister did try to "introduce me to 21st century" (her words!) by trying to sign me up, the lazy me never bothered to venture and see what the fuss was all about! What happened to the good ol' emails? But the final straw came couple of months ago, when my 9 yr-old niece suggested I open a Facebook account along with how sign up - felt like a fossil for a second there :-)

Don't blame it all on me though.. You cannot access these restricted sites at work and by the time us parents reach home to the kid-madness which doesn't end until the lil' peanut is asleep, one is more than ready to hit the sack hoping for a dreamless night :-)

But when I eventually did sign up onto couple of the popular sites and saw most of the people I know are on one or the other, definitely didn't take long for me to warm up to it.I'm sure everybody must have their own reasons for logging onto these sites but for me the most fun has been getting in touch with friends with whom I had lost contact for almost a decade. And I guess it is much easier logging in once/twice a week and and know what is going on with all friends/family rather than an occasional email to each one of them.

So, here is to yet another way to a smaller world.

Missing sock mystery

What is it about socks? Why and how in the world does one go missing and the other is right in front of you all the time?! I'm sure everybody must've experienced one time or another the exasperation of rummaging the drawers trying to find matching socks delaying the 'weekday' morning...

It does happen to me once in a while but lately it seems all the time with my little one. I do buy a few pairs every couple of months. The new sock pairs look so cute and almost like they are made for each other until their first wash. And after that hop into the dryer, one sock mysteriously disappears and seems like the other couldn't care less. I think the dryer loves try out assortment of socks by gobbling up one of the pair each time they come to it. And sure enough we never hear from the missing sock again. But even after six months, I'm not sure why I hang on to the hope that I might find it one day. The fact that my peanut would outgrow them long before there is any chance of finding them does little to dash my optimism..

About a month ago, one of the fun friday themes at my baby's daycare was a mismatch day. You can imagine my excitement at having gotten a chance to atleast a couple of single socks to use. I think I took more time than ususal trying to make a great looking pair of mismatched socks that day. Oh well.. what can I say - Though I'm game to an occasional mismatch day, the mystery of missing socks will haunt me forever :-)

How is the April Fool's day coming along? Anything interesting??
This time, it was prank-time at work. Among 9 women in our team - 2 of them are pregnant and due this summer. So, the boss is already pretty busy scampering to get additional resources to manage the workload of the missing ladies and ofcourse he was the target of this year's Fool's day :-)
Of the remaining 7 non-pregnant women, 3 of us in a very well coordinated plan told the boss-man that we were expecting.. Missed actually seeing his reaction :-O since he works off-site! But heard he totally fell for it and is still probably reeling thinking about the effort and extra resources needed to fill-in for all the ladies in maternity leave.. Can't help smiling while I'm writing this :-)
And meanwhile hope he won't find out about the prank before the day is over.
Have a fun Fool's Day!!

Cuppa coffee?

No one seems to have the time for a leisurely cuppa coffee anymore. Remember the wonderful combination of coffee and a newspaper?!
We all look forward to that little stretch of weekend mornings. Well, if you don't have kids or they are too young for those 'round-the-clock' (well,almost!) activity classes that don't end until sunday evenings. And then there are those bulky US newspapers with ocean of advertisements and not much news, take all the fun out of it.
So, what do we do? Like most normal people we "read news online at work"! Isn't internet at work an awesome thing? A few minutes of surfing every day from reading news to gossip columns and sipping the accustomed tasteless coffee is a daily dose of re-energy especially with no kids tugging your pants asking to see Elmo on Youtube or sifting through the mountain of ads in a daily to find something vaguely interesting.
Here is one of the funniest websites I've come across these days. If you are looking for a break in your otherwise chaotic day with some great humor - this is perfect for you. Enjoy coffee all day with this award winning website: http://www.alldaycoffee.net/

Visiting Hampi

Okay, its not my trip but my sister's!

My sister lives in Banglore and visited Hampi (about 7 hours drive) over the weekend with her roommate.

And she told me some things she noticed which I thought were very intersting:

1. Hampi is in Karnataka but my sister hasn't heard a single soul in the 3 days she stayed there speak Kannada (regional language). It was always English or Hindi..
2. Hampi being a village is probably the only place in the whole of South India where South Indian food is not available.
3. Since it an important religious center, only vegetarian food is served in all the restaurants and hotels.
4. But get this, they had all kinds of cuisines available - Mexican, Italian, English, French (but no idli, dosa!!!)

And the story..

They went by train and arranged with the autowala who dropped them from the railway station to the hotel to drive them around for the next couple of days. As a bonus, the autowala became a tour-guide as well.
Anyway, the next day autowala/guide dropped them at a site and told them to look around while he finished his lunch. Now, it is to be said that my sister is from Hyderabad and her roomie is from Delhi. Since both of them don't have a commong regional language, for the most part they communicate in English and occasionally in Hindi.
So, while they were touring - a young boy, about 13-14 years approached and asked them if they wanted a guide (in English, ofcourse!). They discussed briefly and decided that their autowala-guide would be enough. My sister then tells the boy in Hindi that they already have one! The boy frowns and shaking his head says "You talk English with her and Hindi to me?! That doesn't make any sense!!" For a few seconds both girls are surprised trying to understand what he said. Then it dawned to them that he was offended because my sister spoke to her roomie in English and to him in an Indian language. Then my sister had to re-tell that they had a guide once again, this time in English :-)
But he still refused to believe and instituted another boy to watch over them incase their autowala-guide didn't return they turned out guideless :-) Unfortunately for our angrez boy-guide, the autowala returned!

This anecdote reminded me of my favorite scene in the movie "Slumdog millionaire" where the boy-hero poses as tourist guide for Taj Mahal in Agra. The scene where the hero is acting as a guide to an American tourist couple but knows nothing about the monument. When the couple enquire about the death of Mumtaz mahal, the hero who does not know anything says she died in a traffic accident. The confused couple then mention that she may have died during childbirth. Then our smart hero quickly modifies the story and ingeniously re-invents history saying that she did die in childbirth - a traffic accident on her way to the hospital!

About Hampi: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hampi

Happy 31st birthday!

My 31st b'day is right around the corner.. Glad the milestone birthday has passed! I was upset leaving the 20s behind last year that my 30th birthday looked like the start of a tunnel.. I had refused to accept any card/cake/wishes with the number 30. But this time is much better than the last - probably because I've had a year a full year to adjust. And now I'm almost ready to take on the next decade but do miss the 20s a little :-) I somehow think 30's is the age of the actual growing up. Feels like it is the time to play out all that we've learnt in the past couple of decades. So, here is to the next 9 years..