Monday, March 13, 2006

 

WISH MUM WERE HERE

BY KALINDI KOKAL

The stain confounded me. What was it all about? That afternoon I waited till my dad left the room following which I dragged my mom into the bathroom. I showed her what I had noticed and asked her what it meant. She stared in utter disbelief and, as she scrubbed me with soap and water, she muttered “Aaee ga, my daughter has grown up.…”

I was quite glad, you know. Mom had actually admitted that I had grown up. In fact, I always felt that even if she had realized it, she wouldn’t admit it. Definitely not in front of me. But this was like a public admission! Yet, she sounded a little apprehensive and spoke to my grandmother after this episode. That night, she held me close to her bosom, whispering lightly in my ears, “Babu, it’s only a question of a few days.” It was confusing. It was as if she was consoling herself, as if she was making a serious effort to come to terms with the change. How would I have understood what was going through her mind? I was only ten, you see.

The following year, the whole family went to the U.S.A. Unlike the other family getaways, this time the holiday was planned with my mom’s best friend’s family – Parul Maasi, her husband and their two pesky sons. The two were rather irritating; more because they were especially fond of their Sanju Maasi (my mother). Ram, the younger sibling, never went to bed without having aai narrate him a story. Shyam, the older son, discussed books that I didn’t understand and people whom I didn’t know. They comfortably occupied my mother’s lap to rest their heads on and engaged her in conversation or games of ‘challenge’ and UNO, without feeling the least bit guilty as I snuggled up on the last seat of the SUV.

I used to get insecure. My ego shielded my disappointment and I turned towards my dad, his early morning walks and his healthy but adventurous meals in this foreign country. On one such occasion, when I was perched on a rock, aai sneaked from behind and gave me a huge hug. I basked in its warmth for a few minutes before I slunk out of her hold. She smiled as her eyes wandered into the depths of the valley. “I haven’t had to bear even a single tantrum from you during this trip. You are turning into a lady, my baby. Just don’t become very mature for the hug that my arms yearn to give you!”

Today, my mother looks after me from the skies above. Often, when I am all alone, I try to make sense of this one thought. What would have happened had I not grown up so fast? Would situations have reversed? Would time have paused?

Comments:
Dear Kalindi,

Y dont u try writing fiction? I was amused while reading your blog. I dont know why, may be being a boy i found it extremely different. As male and female species always try publicly or privately to peep into each others domains and find these discoveries very close to there heart! My fancy may be of this kind.

Or may be I'm ubnormally mad about knowing things which not everybody normally reveals. Thats why I loved Anny's diary and I cant stop reading Kamla Das' poems. I think its because of the honesty of the person which often is replaced by falsehood, pretence or lies.

VIJAY
 
thank you for ur comment vijay. i do write some fiction, but its mostly based my real life experiences.
slightly confrontational writing does appeal to a few... but mostly readers would rather not read what they do not like to face.
 
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