12th May, 2013
Sundarrajan is another computer engineer staying in Bangalore with his parents. Contrary to the polite disagreement of his peers, he supposes he is tall, dark and handsome. He also likes to think of himself a wise man.
Since everyone on facebook was talking about the significance of the second Sunday of May , he was a little intrigued for he had not planned anything.
His normal state of affairs on a Sunday: while away time on facebook, read tweets, articles, watch videos, whatsapp, day in day out staring at the laptop, check for messages on his phone and occasionally go out to a movie with friends. Doing something physical on a Sunday was ignored. His chair felt comfy and cozy, and anything else – even getting up from it or having a bath, felt uncomfortable and irritating. He wondered if it was laziness or it was just the way things are.
Today he made up his mind to be a little more proactive.
He pulled himself out of his chair and headed to the kitchen to see what his mom was doing and if there was any scope of helping her on her day.
He saw the TV was playing a Hindi soap but his mother wasn’t there watching it. She was making masala for the gravy being prepared for dinner. He leaned into her and asked , “Why is the TV switched on while you are here …”
“At least, it will feel like there is someone talking at home” she replied.
On any other normal day, he would have ignored it but today, this comment from his mother faced more friction sinking down his throat. He felt sadness and helplessness in the comment. He was surprised at the inverse proportionality of the volume of emotions expressed to the volume of the words spoken.
He had spent the whole day on his laptop. He felt convinced that there was nothing he could do about spending the time differently so as to make more room for his mother today. But there was a part in him that felt guilty. He broke the silence by asking – “Shall I help you carry dinner to the table?”
“OK” she replied.
He helps her.
They both have dinner. There was nobody else in the house. After dinner it was Sundarrajan’s habit to go to his room unconsciously, sit on his chair, stare at the laptop, launch the Firefox browser and log onto facebook. The reason he says he does that is because he does not like watching TV for it is full of junk and noise.
He scrolls down his facebook wall. There were not many updates. One update catches his eye
Motherhood – the most underrated of human relationships and where the buck finally stops.
Does indeed take something like a Mothers day today to re-experience our love and gratitude for our mothers.
But have wondered if what we are feeling today will carry thru when our mom calls tomm on a busy day to check how my cough is, did we eat dinner last nite and why havent we called back yet. Or when one is so pre-occupied with our thoughts that simple questions are responded with unnecessary irritation ( initially controlled n eventually full-blown).
Have always been hesitant wishing mothers day to my mom, unsure of how i would talk to her tomm or day after or for the rest of the year!! But each mothers day is a reminder of my love and gratitude to mom and that it needs to go beyond this day into every day and every moment of my life.
my mom told me one day – you ll know what I am about, the day you become a parent. So I am a father today. And I very well know that if my child spoke to me an iota of how i have spoken to you – i would be so heartbroken;-). hats off to you and the rest of the mothers for not just bearing us – but to continue to love irrespective of how we are!!
His eyes get moist. Emotions overwhelm him. He stands up and goes to the living room where his mother is watching a dance reality show.
He sits besides her and says – “It is good. Isn’t it?”.
“Yes it is” she says. “You should have seen the show from last week. There was 5 year old kid who had come to dance. She was so cute. You must’ve seen the way she danced. But the she was not… “. Her eyes were gleaming as she went on and on about the show and the details about the show. She likes a lot to talk and say her opinion. At times she would secretly move her fingers to wipe her moist eyes, when the performances were touchy. Sundarrajan was holding her hand, conscious to not make fun of her or criticize her but let her express.
He was simply there, there for her.
This post is a fiction piece. The facebook status above was Ankit Pogula’s facebook status on Mother’s day. And thanks to legend2k for the photo