Perfectly imperfect

Sonia Khurana

Updated At : 06:15 AM Sep 27, 2015 IST

Traditional and conservative, my mother is deeply rooted to the village culture. Since our childhood, we have seen her busy shining floors, cleaning the kitchen and washrooms to make the house look spick and span at any given time. If there was no water in the taps, she would arrange it and carry on her work. It just keeps her sane, this desire for order.

She is now a US citizen. Once, during her visit home, the family planned reconstruction of the house. Contractors, architects, carpenters were being contacted. Even then, my tireless mom continued shining floors, dusting every nook and corner. I couldn’t resist asking about the fetish when the house was going to be rebuilt. There was a blunt reaction, “You mean we should live here like tapparwas (temporary abode)? I can’t live in such a way. Cleanliness is next to godliness and I am used to it.” I was embarrassed and speechless.

The same is her laborious routine with cooking. Everything has to be perfect — perfectly cut, perfectly arranged, the right portion of everything. What she is not perfect in is expecting the same perfection from her children. Thus, the frequent rebuke for not managing proper round chappatis, for not cutting vegetables in the right size, for frying snacks on high flame. She’s become quite popular for her cooking abroad and everyone asks her to open a restaurant in the US.

When she had to get a visa the first time, we were nervous about how she would manage the interview at the embassy. She was a rockstar. Proving us wrong, this brave woman even quickly adapted to the changed atmosphere. The test for citizenship was a big challenge, but even that was cleared effortlessly. New tastes were also acquired — dosa, idli, sambhar, noodles, she has learnt to cook it all.

Mrs Perfectionist is no home bird, loves to shop, and manages to get just the right things for us. Her passion for life radiates through, but my mother does make me think: why am I so unlike her?

I resemble my dad more in appearance, but even otherwise. The way I talk, what I talk about, what I want to talk about, I take after him. I am tough but emotional, not very choosy, every small effort matters to me. I think I am a daddy’s girl. I look up to him for what he’s achieved as an educationist, how he is as a human being, but also how he motivates me to be a better insaan.

Dad’s outlook to life is outward and inspiring. My hero he is. The way this hero and the lead actor, my dear mother, manage to pull along, complement each other despite being strong, committed individuals is a daily lesson for me. How real perfection lies in making peace with the other’s imperfections.

Thus, I am ready to proclaim to them both: “Guys, I am imperfect. Show the perfection to make peace with it.” When have they not?

The writer is a Ludhiana-based teacher

Perfectly imperfect

Sonia Khurana

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