v2 round the corner

Siddharth Raj Saya

Family says it is not a good name. 

Well, today is 10th day your life. And I am still finding it new. Still finding it difficult to adjust to.

To the fact that there is another you. 

I thought I was happy enough with ichu. Now there is Siddu. 

Will I be happy with both of you? Is that double trouble? Time will tell, I guess! 

Another day, another tantrum

Journal entry: today Ichu cried. Again. For stupid reasons like not someone taking more turns on Messi's ball. Five times. And he still does not understand that it is more important to not upset me because when papa gets angry, then there is no game.

But this goes on and on dammit. Every single day. 

On rare occasions when I don't get such nuisance from you, I count my blessings and it is the best day. But that is a rarity. And that is life. 

Anyways, I am trying, still trying, to make you understand that you are better off keeping it cool with me. Time outs, no games, shouting - nothing seems to make it stick. I need to get across you the message. Somehow. Because this is not working well. It kills the fun of the moment and you suffer as much as I do. 

I want to have fun with you but you just won't let go of silly things. You lose the real fun when you behave badly. 

And I am ashamed that I lose my temper and shout and curse at you. It is true. 

Someday, you will become better. That day does not seem to be very near. So I just bear with the tantrums for now. And I will keep trying. 

Wait. There is the junior on the way. Will he be just as much trouble? I cannot bear to think. 

Kids and names

Today. We are going to welcome your new brother. Or sister.

We think it is a boy, though we have no way of knowing. 

But it will probably be a boy and he will be called Siddu, by my mandate.

If it is a girl, though we have no way of knowing and a girl is just as fine, maybe even better than a rascal male, again, but if it is a girl, we will name her..

Wait for it.. 

Maya.. 

Maya Saya.. 

If I have my say, then Maya it will be. Because there is no name more powerful than that. And if it means fighting everyone for the dibs, we will go for it. We will take the pain. But the name, will remain.

But then, a boy would be so much easier to name. It basically picks itself.

Just found out that it is a boy. 

Siddu 

Siddharth

Siddharth Raj Saya! 

Mysteries

You are 5 now baby. LKG. So maybe you cannot express yourself now. But you should answer these questions when you are older. I won't let you be. Don't Remember is not an answer.

You enjoy your dance classes. You want your school. You have loads of friends. Teachers love you. Never any minor complaint anytime.

But you create so much ruckus. Every. Single Time.

You cry and whine and act up. You make all excuses in the world. You give up everything, just to avoid going to that dance class. Or to school.

The pain and trouble you caused is so much that it earned you endless slaps and punishments. And infinite headaches for me. Not to mention the fights and arguments with your mom and grandmom and everyone else.

Why? I will get an answer from you, even if I need to slap it out of you when you get older. You are not off the hook.

Rage and Shame

Today was the worst. I don't know why but it happened. You really pissed me off for a few days now. I know I tried my best to make you understand. But it hasn't been working. You keep repeating the same behavior pattern which has cost us too much in terms of efforts and pain. All of us. 

You know you will be punished if you keep creating a ruckus and crying for every small inconvenience. You know it disturbs my mood and I won't play with you. You know you will miss out on going out or some other fun. Most importantly, you know I don't like that behavior. Very clearly.

Yet you keep crying every time I tell you to keep your current shirt on or to wear one of the other jeans. Over some toy or another silly thing. Even when what you want is clearly not available or convenient. Even when you know the consequences of making drama is always worse off and painful.

Today was the third day this has been going on since I came back from the tour. Every day I am putting you in isolation at least three times for 5 to 10 minutes. Repeating the same thing everytime. Explaining WHY your behavior is not acceptable and what to do or not to do. Everytime. Consistently. Morning and evening and night for three days. 

Twice today since the morning. Yet you cried over a shirt. Without even listening to what I had to say. Even when you knew that we were running late for the dance class. Even when I had agreed to your jeans.

I have had enough. I slapped you on the cheeks and warned you thrice. You didn't bother behaving. Kept crying snd creating nuisance. So I pushed you into the washroom as usual. But I knew that you were taking this for granted as well. There needed to be more consequence. This is not business as usual.

So. I opened the door, gave you a water bottle and closed the bedroom washroom door on the first floor again. I told your mom to not open the door for an hour and went to my office. I didn't have the energy to stay home anymore. 

I get a call in thirty minutes. My mom, your grandma, has come and opened the door and took you down to the main hall in the ground floor.

She told me later that what she saw when she opened the bathroom door scared her. You were sweating all over. Wet from tears and sweat. You didn't even have a voice to cry properly by then. You complained to her of pains all over your head and jaws later, from all the crying. She really was scared that you were ill. I heard this after coming back home later in the night. 

Luckily, you are totally fine and I have repeated all my lectures on why you should not behave like that and what you should do instead, complete with consequences of misbehaving again. Made you repeat after me three times. 

Then I played some games with you for an hour, laughing and joyful. And put you to sleep, after giving you the medicine for cold and fever. 

So here I learn my lesson. Sorry, I will never be so harsh again. I was in the heat of the moment, intent on ensuring that you realize your mistake. Intent on making you see the consequences of misbehaving and disturbing all driven by minor inconveniences. 

But I didn't realize that you are still so small. So naive and innocent that consequences are not getting into your head as a concept yet. You are hardly 5. Kids are supposed to be hard to deal with I guess. You often behave so smart and mature for your age that I probably take it for granted, expecting you to understand stuff that you simply do not have the age to understand. So the fault is mine. 

More seriously, I didn't consider that you may injure yourself or become sick due to the stress or the conjested washroom. 

Luckily, it is a minor thing now. We all move on, onto another day. 

I will be a lot more considerate going forward in dealing with your behavior, as well as my anger. Both need changing. A lot. But there is a a need for a good dose of compassion from my side. 

I have learnt my lesson. Hopefully, you will come around too. 

Don't grow up. Ever.

Here's the thing

I wish you wouldn't grow up as fast as you both are growing up now.

Not because I am not proud of you both. On the contrary, you surprise me with your accomplishments everyday. I didn't know kids can become so smart so fast. At this rate you'd look at me like an outdated windows XP computer by the time you turn 10.

But I am not afraid of that either. I don't care about you not caring for me. As long as you care for your happiness.

Nor am I jealous. You have my blood, remember. Not me yours. So I will always have that on you, for good or for bad. So no, not jealous or afraid or angry. I don't want to see you grow so fast because you are so much fun being the little rascals you are. 

Maturity kills fun, unless we are very careful to guard it and don't lose it for the sake of worldly attractions.

I know, I've been there. I have lost my curiosity and joy after I grew up. And now that I have seen the reality of such infatuations, I am quite invested in waking up my inner child and keeping that fire glowing. Because that is true joy of life. Most of the things that happen after you grow up are not worth it. They just take away the life and fun, the joy and excitement. And the things you gain are not worth the things you sacrifice. Not in the least. 

Friendships that don't deserve you, entertainment that just drains life, curriculum for the sake of marks and relationships to mimick bad movies. Not worth it in hindsight. They are irresistible in the moment of heat and it is ok if you don't recognize it for what it is, in that moment. I have not either and mistakes are where you grow. 

But I am afraid that as you grow up and grow wordly, you'd lose your sights on what really matters, only to realise your loss twenty years later. Making mistakes is ok. But if you can keep your inner joy and spirit kindled and glowing, then your mistakes will be worthwhile as well. As I think mine have been, if I say so myself. 

I want you to be child in spirit as you grow older and I want to do whatever I can to help in that. I only wish you'd let me help! 

We are not immortals

It just occurred to me that we adults live our lives as if we are immortal. We do not express all the love we feel and we do not share it enough. We kind of push it to the later. Because, what's the hurry. There are other things to worry about today. Stuff to get done and arguments about inconsequential things need to be argued out today. So the silly stuff like loving actively and receiving love actively gets lost in the noise.

Just know that you love me more than anything else. And you love me with an intensity that will not be matched by any other love of yours in the future. You may not believe me when some silly girl comes along and you act like an idiot around her. But even that won't be as unconditional as your love and affection for me now, when you are three. And trust me, it is well received. You are the most joyful thing that ever happened to me. And that means something because I have had some beautiful experiences and phases in this life already. But you and your laughing face beats them all out of the park. Sometimes, when you hug me tight, words fail to express the connection we share with each other. It is just beautiful and I am grateful that this happens to me. I wouldn't have imagined that this would be the case before you were born.

Anyways, this is all for your future reading when we will probably be a bit more distant as a father and son, and you will read this with a blush on your teenage cheeks. And I will probably never open these posts again because it will feel too weird to read for me I am sure. 

The Surgery

You had a surgery done in mid of 2020. It was for a small lump below your tummy and above the belt area above the right leg I think. It lasted only less than an hour and we didn't need to stay in the hospital overnight. 

But it was a hell of a time because your were too tiny in our eyes to be putting injections and blood pipes into your hands and legs. We had to sting you a hundred times to get some sample blood and attach some glucose pipes. That ordeal was almost unbearable. Your mom just walked out of the room with tears. You are baby of over a year. And you are too precious. 

For medical records, it was some sort of hernia somewhere between your lower abdomen and the penis. Right side, I think. Dont remember much else. Welcome. 

Just know that it went alright. You won't even find any signs of the scars on your body now.

Monkeys bite and boys brag

Monkeys are controlled by their greed and their fear. No one really knows what triggered the one that scratched you on the neck. We only know that you went out of the gate without any elder around. Aadya doesn't count yet. I didn't even know you had developed such guts. Last I remember, you were too scared to even open that gate. In a matter of weeks that we have been living in the new home, you have grown enough to not only go out, but to do so when Aadya wouldn't dare such a thing. And then you went near a monkey and earned yourself four rounds of rabies vaccine and a TT.

From the security cameras, we can only see that you had gone beyond the gate while Aadya stayed at the gate. Whatever happened outside, you both came back running, first Aadya, as soon as she saw the monkey scratching you, followed by your good grace, running as if, well, as if you were bitter by a monkey.

But you bragged for weeks. Said you yourself went to the monkey. Even that you shouted at it or taunted it. And probably because you got a good reaction from the audience, you milked it for all its worth, adding all, sorts of dance moves to the narrative. To everyone's absolute amusement of course. But what was surprising that people in family actually bought it. No one really proposed that it was probably just incidental that there was a monkey on the wall, unnoticed, when you went to your usual sitting place beside the gate. And that you must have accidentally scared it crazy by going too close. 

Well, at least it helped you with some story telling skills, though unfortunately I don't think your ego will stop expanding anytime soon. And more worryingly, what with all your short-hand sentences and overly expressive body shakes, you may actually have told the truth. 

Wish you were here

It goes both ways you see.
You are a responsibility, make no mistake. You need time, maintenance and efforts.
And patience. Patience by the kilos and tons.

But you are worth it.
Afterall one doesn't keep dogs for the lack of things to do. And one definitely doesn't keep dogs for the soothing sounds of their shrieks and barks.  One keeps dogs because they are fun. When they are not busy being a damn nuisance that is.

You can be a beauty too when you are not too busy being an ass. There are evenings when you make me question the wisdom of having kids to this day. And don't let me catch you again rubbing your spit on my face. Because I will do the same to you just out of spite. But that is an aside these days. I am convinced that I don't mind the work and that kids are worth the mess. Well, just about, if I am being straight.

And you (and of course my - cuter by the day - niece) played a decent part in getting me to this perspective. Don't get me wrong, you both aren't beating world records by cuteness quotient or by the virtue of being less inconvenient than a terrible broadband connection, but you are definitely giving the dogs a run. So keep it up.

Maybe I won't advise my friends to visit an orphanage when they start thinking about kids (and about various tips to keep it that way). Afterall, I miss kicking you around when you are not home these days, sometimes. 

You are not Three yet

 You are not three yet. But you, along with Aadya (of course), run this house.

You are beautiful to look at. Even after we shaved your hair the first time this weekend. 

You are awesome to interact with. Most of the times.

Sometimes, you irritate the hell out of me.

Sometimes, I drown in your love.

Your best times are when we go out on bike rides. Shouting at the road. Shouting at each other. Just pure excitement. 

(Hoyy Hoyy)

Or when we are playing Hide n Seek or just running on the terrace

Or when you are in the mood to dance (on my lap)

Or when others look at your crazy acts in surprise or amusement.

You are one hell of an attention-seeker.

You are fun most of the times. As long as you have some space to run around in and some things to tinker with.

Your worst times are meals. 

Also, we never force you to sleep. Pointless. 

You have big ego issues when it comes to other kids.

As possessive as Aadya and sometimes just as cute when caught in the act.

But making you eat is a task only your mother has mastered so far (violent threats and blackmails)

You are also pretty terrible in your territorial fights with Aadya. You are lucky that she is growing to be very gracious and can be bought off using chocolates on many occasions.

And when we are on the terrace. That is pretty special. 20 years later, when I feel the pain of arthritis in my knees from the abuse they are enduring now, I will look back to these evenings on the terrace just before and after the sunsets. When I tell you and Aadya to run and you both do. And I run with you, with that rubber ball of ours. Laughing and kicking it around. Chasing each other. So absorbed in our games, as if there is nothing else out of here and out of now. Which there isn't. 

You still sleep beautifully. And it is still so easy to wake you up laughing. I wish those things never change.

There is this Doman technique of teaching maths to toddlers. I am too lazy to work it with you. You won't be a child wizard I guess, sorry. 

But you can be an exciting young man if you put your mind to it. That should be enough promise at this stage. 

And Aadya will be a super glamorous young girl. God save us. 

Family

 Let me tell you something.

Families are made of people. People have egos. Egos are self-destructive, as well as harmful to others. When egos clash, it is a nuclear blast. It hurts everyone in proximity. Damage control is the only thing to do, or not. There is no escaping this fact.

Today I screamed at the top of my voice. Shouted till my lungs hurt. At everyone at home.

You came towards me, I looked at you. I still managed to force a smile. So did you, but you did not come close. You distracted yourself in something else. Out of your necessity to stay away from me. And when I stepped out, you didn't stop me. Probably didn't even ask out for me later. 

You still don't speak

It's been two months since your second birthday but you still don't speak. You manage to run the world with help of a few code words and sign language. And a lot of crying.

'Buuuu' is the colour of everything. 'Buyyyy' is the bike ride. An order when accompanied by tears ij those eyes. A request when all is well, of course. And all is well in the morning. Every. Morning.

You are so shy of strangers that you would hug me so hard, your nails dig into my shoulders. Yet when you are the free bird within familiar territory, and I couldn't get my hands on you, and despite my best efforts to get a kiss from you, I can hardly get a pout on your lips. Sometimes even the dreared 'Noooo papa', the ultimate denial. Out of question.

Because you are too busy to spare kisses for your old man. Your legs have a mind of their own. Running so hard on the polished floor as if they are collapsing under you. Seeming to drag away the remaining of all of the ten kgs that is your body. Or dancing so wild I could only stare with a gaping mouth, bleak realisation that the blood line shows.

Or too busy with your Chocy or the Yummieee dance on the phone. I sometimes wonder about the stuff that will keep you busy as you would grow. What can be so important that you will say Noooo to your Babaiii. But I will be honest, I don't believe you will ever grow up. You are my Ichuuu who is so happy with himself and his world that big things are too boring. The little things are your joy and being cute and naughty is your game. I really think that you will always be this. Growing up is not allowed. Not under my watch.

Anyways.. I can always get your attention with Buyyy rides. You on my lap as I drive the bike and start thinking of a good song to sing out loud. Loud enough to make the heads in shop windows and on the kids playing on footpaths turn around, sometimes with a half smile and other times with a glare showing dissapointment in seeing a grown man singing in a ghastly voice without any regard for any decency. And a sigh from your mom if she is sitting at the back.. Not again.. '

You belong on my shoulder

And me, I am your soft and smooth pillow
A cradling pillow, a dancing pillow

You are the wind on the terraces
and the colors of dogs and peacocks

Me, your wingman
pushing you on and pulling you back

We make a good pair
cos' we both need each other

You are the perfect blend of vodka
I like vodka

You are the eyes of laughter
and of joy and innocence

You are the laughter
within my eyes

my joy, my pillow
the shoulder I rest on

"I will miss you"

There have been times dude. Maybe moments, sometimes hours, sometimes even days. At those points in my life, it felt like I would lose you for good. Not that anything would happen to either of us. It's just that I would have let you be taken away from me. No questions asked.

See, so many things need to happen to sustain a beautiful thing. So much suffering to be endured. So many painful words that hold the heart in a fist and do not let go for days and weeks, until the fist beats another heart to death, punching with all the hateful energy it accumulated over all the years. People need to overcome all that. And those same people need to compromise on their egos, even self-respect, over and over again, just so that a bunch of people can become a home and raise a family with love. And even then it doesn't work if hard luck hits.

But so many things indeed happened for us to be here and now, you and me, and all that goes on between and around us. And all that happened, despite my shortcomings, despite what we all are, to make these days of happiness a reality for us.

If I am now able to finish this note, it is only because I somehow consider myself to be a bigger guy than that guy who was willing to let go of his beautiful son because he was not able to deal with some shit. If I am presumptuous about this claim, then I’ll figure out soon enough. Let’s hope I don’t. Having said that, I am trying to finish this piece which I started when I was in that fucked-up state of mind.

Back then, I was not willing to finish and publish this stuff, because the guilt still got to me. I was not willing to see myself in the mirror, or on paper. I mean after all the fuck-ups that I delivered, to have the audacity to write on that situation or even to reflect upon it, while still trying to solve it, just seemed wrong. Did you ever see a junkie brag about his exploits? Also, I was going through a lazy phase, most of the past year. Or two.

Anyways, that guy who was not willing to write this page was an idiot. That guy who was willing to give you up was a confused mess of a human being. That is not me in the now. And so lets talk about the idiot, what was going on in and around him. Before I get cocky though, a tiny reminder that this version of myself was from less than six months back. More like three months back. I think I grew out of it, but that is not yet tested thoroughly, so touch-wood.

I can laugh about it now but back in the heat of those moments, it pretty much felt like fate. There was nothing I could’ve said or done, to really resolve the differences. Nothing I can really do to move the hearts away from conflict and towards a place of harmony. Not even a pretense of harmony. Not saying I was free of blame. But I can only play my part. And trust me I was sincere. I was always trying to resolve issues. People did warn me that my involvement usually had the opposite effect and actually escalated situations, but that is only half-right. And anyways, my intentions were pure enough if my actions were sometimes, well, confused.

But I just wanted people to realise the bigger picture that was so very obvious. True happiness. You know how winning a battle isn’t really worthwhile when it is the one you love who has to lose. Simple things like that. Turns out, it was not that simple.

I can take a beating or two you know. I can take many more for you. I can suffer and trust me, I didn't suffer more on anyone else's account. But sometimes - frankly, more times than you’d think reasonable - I came to feel that I couldn't take it anymore. That enough is fucking enough. You will never know the specifics and you might as well not. Not worth the pain and I’d rather not go through those memories again.

Anyways, it was clear as daylight, in those moments, that I can lose you if it comes to that rather than take one more moment of the fucking bullshit that goes on in contests of ego. Not one more moment. I'd rather lose it all than bend over to the damn madness that I have to endure, just because people think winning is more important than peace.

It was not your fault of course, you were just involved. You were just a gambling weight to be used against me. Or for me. Didn't matter. You didn't matter and that was not cool with me. I was not going to tolerate you being made a pawn in these cheap dramas. The fact that I have to take so much bullshit and disrespect because otherwise I’d lose you was not alright with me.

You should read The Fountainhead sometime. Sooner the better so that you can grow out of it. In that, Howard Roark at one point says, “I can die for you, but I cannot live for you”. He was saying that in response to being emotionally black-mailed by people he cared about. They were asking him to compromise his vision and passion because they wanted him to be safe. Something like that.

Not an exact anology but you get my point. I was not willing to tolerate the bullshit generated by clash of egos after a certain point, even at emotional gunpoint, especially at a gunpoint, even if that meant losing you. Even if that meant not seeing you grow up.

I've given it all my energies and endured as much as I could, but now the line was drawn and crossing it meant that I pull the trigger. That's how much I was pushed. Back against the wall, even a cat swings its paws in one last fit of rage.

But it was just those mad moments mind you, many a scuffles went by with much less of a mental strain, meaning that this was not a one-off. In fact, if a week went by without some sort of an ego clash and heated, spiteful arguments, it felt like a relief. The last drama was less than a month ago and I am already dreaming that this peace will be permanent. Just because I need it to be. The situation basically stinked as recently as monsoons, and we just celebrated my birthday.

Call me weak, lacking will power or just miserable. Or call me cold as some have called me before. I won't contest you, maybe I could’ve been more of a man. Maybe not. A friend once told me that it is not easy to self-analyse oneself. It is probably impossible. What does it matter, I was that guy and that is a fact. 

But it is also a fact that, back then as much as now, nothing else would hurt me more than the thought of not seeing the glow of your face. Not dancing with you again or running around chasing you or fighting with you on the bed. If I can visualize my life without you in it, the image will probably tear me apart for good. Those moments in which I was standing there, taking the stand to let you go, that was pure misery and the tears in my eyes were not enough to account for the pain I had to endure.

Anyways, those days, let us assume, are in the rear-view now. Let us just assume that and I will keep on my toes to ensure it remains so.

But, just imagine the freedom I'd have had if it did come to pass. I mean, not that I want it that way at all, and I would listen to a lot of doom and blues music than it would make sense. But then I'd also have  had a lot more time to actually sit down and listen, eh!

Being a father

You'd like to kiss him, at least touch his cheek and rub on the soft skin. But you can't. It's two in the night and he needs to sleep. More importantly, you are afraid because you know you don't have the capacity to keep up with his energy at this point. You'd rather not kiss him now.

He is fast asleep. He hasn't seen anything yet, or he would be awake too. Maybe you haven't seen enough that you are wide awake.

I know you

The idea of you. It's in my bones.
I know you, I don't need to think.

I know cos, it's in my bones you see.
Not in my experience. Not in my emotions.

I know you from my bones and nothin can influence that.
Not all your nonsense. Not all your tantrums. Not even your anger.

Nothing can hide the love you have for me.
Nothing can change it either.
Not even you could change it if you wanted to.

Cos its in your bones. Its in every DNA of every cell in every bone and joint of your being. Its in your muscles and in your emotions. Your fears and your laughter.

And I know that much if I know anything. I don't need to guess, you know why?
Cos I know it in my bones.

That's my boy

We were playing around. As usual. First in the living room, then the balcony because the kid is getting cranky about going out. And then onto the terrace because if I can appease myself while being of use to him, why not. I like the terrace - it is spacious, and has an aesthetic about it. It is also a convenience that no one is ever around. People are too busy watching Tv and phones. Now, they even have the virus to worry about - all the more reason to drown in the search for the next dopamine hit in the digital world or the virtual world. I will leave this topic here so I can come back and rant about it properly later.

Anyways, we have done enough chilling now and Ichu wants to be back home, with his "Mohmmii..." on an urgent basis.  Yeah, sure - here to serve...

We are back on the bed and we are, as usual, just playin' around, me trying to catch up on the latest Trump tweet while pretending to be reasonably aware about his movements. And, the boy, well, any day now he will actually jump off that makeshift shelf behind the bed and break something. God forbid it to be his mothers' phone. Anything happens to "her precious" and he wound need to be pretty diplomatic to avoid the stick.

I convince him to get down in a more conservative manner for now. Then starts the routine. He is jittery and needs someone to convince him to sleep. Or some other way to drift away. His favorite, right since birth, is mothers' milk. That's where he lays low, the dude. And so we play and he does this routine where he will wander around while slowly drifting towards his mother. Obviously trying to feel the vibes, to check if she is in a good mood. 

She ain't. Not going to be an easy one, this. He tries, first time, gets a small shrug from her and he is back to me and playing around as if nothing happened. A couple more enquiries and his mom is not pleased. She has been watching Mahabharata, the 2011 version, with her headphones on, only since the last hour and needs to get in at least another hour of nail-biting and blank-staring before she can finally convince herself that the day has been worthwhile. She gets verbal now. "Go and play with your dad, he never has any interest in you", but I notice that the kid is actually not crying yet.

Nope. Today he decides to be relaxed about it. After all, I can be an influence when I set out to be one. He takes another round around me, we cuddle around for a fistfight or two, and then he slowly makes his way back to his mom's domain. She looks ready to give it to him this time. Blood will be shed.

Or so it seemed to me before he simply, without any indication whatsoever, slapped across her face with his little hand, and gave nothing away with the expressions. You can be fooled into thinking that it is just a small boy fooling around in the bed if you didn't know him well enough. He gave her one of her own there and it was clear for everyone involved to see. It wasn't a very hard slap, but it was hard enough to be heard at close range and hard enough to declare offense. 

I laughed so hard, and managed to protect the soldier, guided him back into the homeland without any major casualties despite the enemy lines being particularly treacherous. And a job well done. This battle won is enough for tonight. The war will continue but we can bask in our glory for a day or two.