It’s a typical weekday. D and R have been up for a while and D is packing R’s lunch and making cornflakes for R while R is getting ready. D impatiently reminds R about the time and after packing the lunch, gets to feed R the cornflakes, followed by some bread while R is all the more reluctant and is making reasons to skip breakfast. After a lot of argument, R picks her bag and lunchbox and D bids her bye and gets back to work.
Doesn’t it seem like the typical morning in every house? It indeed is, except that D is not the mother who is sending her daughter R off to school/college/ work. It actually is the other way round. :) Yeah, D is me, persuading my mom to finish her breakfast, scolding her if she makes any reason to skip it, packing her lunch, pushing her by reminding her the time and sending her off college. And for the record, she is a professor at a prestigious institute for over 30 years! It seems like a déjà vu to me, as this was the exact same thing that my mom did to me when I was in school!
I often wonder, and by often, I mean at least a zillion times a day, what is this person made of? How is she able to put up with my sinusoidal temper tantrums and my freakishly annoying whining and sinful wishes? I often feel I do all of those things which she thoroughly disapproves of – keeping my room in the most untidy manner, using my keyboard as my dining table, not cleaning my closet. In spite of all this, she has never uttered a word that would hurt me but one thing she says or does that is not really what I like, I pounce upon her complaining that she doesn’t love me and many such accusations would soon follow. She then, very patiently, cajoles and coaxes me, apologizes for nothing, and makes the one thing I can never say no to – coffee. She surely knows her way out, doesn’t she? :)
Every morning she wakes me up from bed. I don’t even bother to put myself out of my bed even if I am wide awake. I wait for her and she tells me this exact thing every day – ‘hush! Don’t open your mouth and start blabbering. Pray to Lord first and then start your day’. I have the exact same thought each day – ‘I sometimes think God exists, I sometimes think he doesn’t. But I see you, and for me, you are more than God.’ I bow to her, of course, an absent minded professor that she is, has never noticed me do that for the past 10 months that I have been home. People who know me fairly well, think this is quite unlikely of me to utter such mushy things, but surprise surprise! :)
She has immense faith in God (thanks to the ongoing IPL, it’s not Sachin, but the real one) She never lets me out of the house without putting vermilion (kumkum) on my forehead. Again, I am not sure about God, but I have immense faith in her and her beliefs and thoroughly respect them and I abide by them.
She is a tigress at her work, the best of the lot, according to her superiors. She has a handful tasks to do at her work, and has to sprint around from one place to another unlike me who has to stare at 2 screens and type something which impacts a meager set of people. What she does, I say, lays foundation for the greater beginnings of a number of people’s lives.
I whine twice a day that I got her small eyes which make everybody think I landed here from China
We eat the same food, but I slump as the day becomes night and she works round the clock both at home and at work, singing chirpily. As I reach home from work, all drawn and worn out, she greets me cheerfully with a cup of adrak chai and has the best of the stories to narrate to me.
After a tiring day at work and the painful travel back and forth, the loner that I am, who would prefer sitting and eating alone in the company of a good book or a good movie any day compared to talking to a person when tired ,actually look forward to go home and chat up with mum and dad. I’ve always considered delaying my masters plan was a huge mistake but only with that decision did I manage to love my mum this much. Well if best things come at a price, then I think I have cracked a superb deal with god in this case :)
On my part - I am her fashion designer - her jewelry; her saris are all my selection. I am her beautician, she says, I tell her what to do get all fair and lovely. I am her adviser; she thinks I can judge and handle a situation more maturely than my age demands! I am her defender, if dad ever dares to complain something; he has to think twice to utter it, for I wouldn’t tolerate a word against her. :) If I want her to do anything, all I have to say is, "do this else I wont eat" and I use it practically everyday be it to make her finish her breakfast or to force her do some exercise in the evening, and knowing how much I love skipping meals just for the heck of it, this threaten works like a spell :)
Bless her; I say everyday to God, for, you would be immensely hated by me if she ever has to go through the smallest of the smallest suffering as long as I am around. Sounds more like a threatening than a prayer probably but it indeed is my prayer.
The letter that I wrote to her yesterday:
"I am awed, dearest mom, at the boundless amount of love you shower on me, every single day, every single hour, every single second, and I cannot but feel the luckiest person on earth, to be blessed with such a wonderful person, every time I see you.
Mom, when I am your age, if I am at least half as successful in my career as you are now, half as happy with my family as you are now with us, half as chirpy, energetic and at least half of everything that you are right now, I would consider myself to have led a great life!
You inspire me to be you. You are an epitome of love, of patience and tenderness and I draw inspiration from you every moment.
Thanks for always being there for me and the least I can do is to be there for you too! "
The cover's story:
"Now I know I always complain that you never listen to me, so here is a letter for you and I am sure you are quite good at reading from a paper :P
I cannot be all that amazingly classy but its only words that I have to express what I truly feel for you.
Loads of love,
Deepu "
Behind the scene:
Rugz and I planned to surprise mum on Mother's day and the classy elegant person that my bro is, sent home a pack of dry fruits ( which I am eating while editing this, Thanks Rugz I love you too :P ). Anyhoo, a pack of dry fruits from Rugz, a bouquet of roses from both of us and a dusty letter from her rustic daughter is what my mum got yesterday and she indeed is quite happy :)
Oh-and-btw0: I had another post lined up before this, sort of a comeback post, but this popped up before that, so.. Anyways, you would be seeing some butterfly effect happening in here since the next post will be dated sometime in the past or future or.. whatever ya!
Oh-and-btw1: Bloody hell, I can still write.. Its been an year and I can still write.. :) Not as good as I was before prolly (well ya, thats what the comments on my previous posts say) but bloody hell, I can still write. ( give it a pass, i am just hyper-excited).
Oh-and-btw2: Yes, the letter was originally in English, typed it word by word.
Oh-and-btw3: Rugz, if you are reading this, mum said she loved the dusty letter the most :P ;)
Oh-and-btw4:Thanks Maruti for proof reading this and asking me to blaag eet. :)
Oh-and-btw5: Title adapted of course from the famous Brit novel "To Sir, With Love"
Deepti
Now listening to : Neend Na aaye, fuzon.. Thooope song, superb lyrics!
Now listening to : Neend Na aaye, fuzon.. Thooope song, superb lyrics!
lət
