The mothers who never say die
MOTHERS care, mothers share, mothers dare, and sometimes they make you pull out your hair. Each day spent with them is a learning experience. I am sharing some snapshots.
“Does my nail polish match my dress? Silver shoes work with silver hair?” I grunt suitable responses admiring my mother’s never-say-die attitude. But what bothers her is the walking stick that spoils her look. Having missed my son’s wedding due to the Covid-19 pandemic, she joined the celebrations after the isolation period, in her own way. In her new clothes and shoes, she recorded solo congratulatory videos with instructions to add them to the wedding video! Her khatta-meetha mirchi pickle sums her up.
My mother-in-law’s pet peeve is her hearing aid, kept safely in her cupboard. Our shouting for her benefit leaves her unperturbed. “That’s your problem, not mine,” she says. Her love for cooking and knitting leaves us speechless. How ‘Amma’ enjoyed her ride on a thela, the main mode of transport in Bet Dwarka, Gujarat, with me and my sisters-in-law pushing it, is legendary. And her demeanour belies her 80-odd years.
Both ‘mother ships’ are looking out for some constructive activity. I once told them to join my office. They announced, “Some people are born to work. We are Maharanis!” The ‘labour class’ wrapped herself in a sari and stormed out.
My elderly aunt’s story is at another level. In 2002, she fractured her hip; this was followed by a stroke and potassium/sodium imbalance. Then, her car caught the accident bug and banged into a truck. Since she spent the year moving from ambulance to hospital, stretcher to OT, her hair lost its colour. Then came the bombshell, “Get a beautician to my hospital room to fix my hair.” Thankfully, she didn’t acknowledge having designs on her handsome doctor!
My nani takes the cake. She wanted to see my new flat. Since it was on the second floor, with no lift, I asked her to wait on the ground floor, while I took nanaji up. ‘Not happening,” she said. Four beleaguered youngsters hauled her up to the second floor in a plastic chair, where she announced, “Aise hi shor machate ho. Kitne aaram se pahunch gayi,” while we were looking for strong people for the return journey!
I’m also a chip off the old block. Alisha Chinai’s song ‘Made in India’ was playing on a Bangkok cruise. No way would my friend and I sit like coy ladies. The horrified, furtive and embarrassed looks of her young daughters did not dissuade us from full paisa-vasool dancing. What made our day was when the youngsters later hugged us, saying that they would be happy if they are as energetic in their fifties. And I believe that if we are as spirited as our mothers in our eighties, it’s a life well lived. Amen!
