Yet another bundle of joy...

Have been hearing of two little babies that have landed on the blogosphere- Noon, and RBdans. And now, I have one almost in my backyard. Well, it would be in my backyard...., if my flat was a house....., with land around....., like in Kerala.

But as of now, this is in the flat right adjacent, and our kitchens have our utility areas facing each other. And the flats are so close, that I can reach out my hands and accept goodies from my neighbour and vice versa. She is also a young mother, like me, and since she moved in during the time when I was still a SAHM, we'd formed a bond of sorts. And this lady has given birth to a bonny baby boy, on Fri.

Today, she espied me when I was loading the washing machine, and said from her kitchen with a bright smile- Hey, I delivered my baby!
And the next sec, we were both laughing through the grills, at each other. Talk about monkeys in the zoo!

I was really pleased for her, for I knew she had been a wee bit worried about the birth, inspite of it being her second, as she had had some problems with her pregnancy. She was a little disappointed with the sex, for the first one was a boy- he's two yrs old- and she'd wanted a girl second time around. We chatted a bit, then her Mom came to shoo her back to bed.

And I went back to get ready for work, with a smile still on my face, thinking of her. Of when she'd proved how caring a neighbour she was...

We had been having a puja in our home- a Ganapathy Homam and a Bhagavathy Seva. For those who do not know, this is a puja done basically to get rid of all obstacles and usher in prosperity. For the homam, a lot of smoke ensues, when you pour the offerings on the fire. Well that particular time the fumes were particularly dense, and started issuing out of all possible vents.
The priest was chanting the mantras in the loud, typically nasal tones, and also had his bell ringing, so that we didn't hear it initially. Then we couldn't miss it- It was my name- being screamed madly, frantically, by my dear neighbour, with utter panic in her voice. She seemed to be going beserk from the sound of her. I rushed out, thinking something must've happened to her son, and saw that her face was pale with fear, fright, worry...

"What happened? What's wrong?" I yelled, in a panic too.

"Your home is on fire," she shouted, gesturing frantically towards my kitchen.

"What??!!" And I looked back.

Because the kitchen doors are the ones to get the maximum airflow, we had kept them open, and the smoke was pouring out of it in great volumes, and kept pouring, densely, as the fire consumed more and more of the ghee and other offerings...

And this poor lady probably had thought that I and my son were being roasted alive. And she was yelling for all she was worth for us to get out. She was a muslim, and had absolutely no clue as to the mad things we hindus sometimes get up to. Filling our houses with smoke indeed!

I explained matters, and she gave me a look that spoke volumes. Indeed I cannot express in words, all that her look conveyed to me that day!
But it certainly conveyed that she was a caring, concerned neighbour.