My present job and my current circumstances leaves me no space to breath. So that explains the trickle of my posts.
On 22nd May 2008 I became a year older. Undoubtedly it was my busiest birthday. I rushed out of home to reach in time for a call.
These days I drive to work. It takes me anywhere between an hour to an hour and fifteen minutes. A far cry from my beautiful walk to work in Bangalore and Kolkata.
Usually I touch the feet of my parents if they are around during my birthday. But in my hurry I forgot to do the same this time.
The day was so bad at work that I returned no less than 10.00 pm. June gave me my best birthday gift ever - a hand drawn joker. Thats her favourite drawing. Whenever she draws something meaningful it will be the joker with a hat. One of my colleagues, Devleena said "She pictures you." I hope that is true. I wish I can stay that way to her.
Mom and daughter planned a nice surprise but my late entry spoilt it a bit. The hand drawn birthday card had contributions from Baba and Mun as well. The shirt was just like I would have picked up.
June was singing the "Happy Birthday!" song. Her first reindition ".. happy birthday to papa." Her second ".. happy birthday to my papa." Her third ".. happy birthday to my dear papa." Today I asked her how much do you love me. She said as much as a train.
So while June was singing, Maa was silently watching, having fun and taking pride looking at her pride. But when June sang the last line "... may God bless you... may God bless you." I could feel a hand run down my head and someone adding to the chorus "... may God bless you.. may God bless you." That was Maa, looking for an opportunity to bless because I did'nt give her one in the morning nor remembered to give her one when I was back home.
That is so typical of how we have been right through my life. We rarely speak. We rarely show. By her own admission she has never bought a piece of chocolate for me ever. Niether has she admitted to have given me a kiss even when I was a chubby cheeks. There were times when we have not spoken for months. There have been times when she lost faith in me. But I don't think in the worst of our moments she ever gave up on me.
I have seen her grow as a mother during my awareness years. A brilliant student she was married at seventeen into a family where it was easy to get lost. It was the time when my grandfather was the king and the kingdom was ruled by her two daugthers. Today I have a sense of what she had gone through.
She often dreams that she is losing all her teeth. By her admission she has a weak heart. But I have seen her strength when we were going through the toughest of times as a family trying to make ends meet. She stood tall during our fall from grace. Bit by bit the pieces have been put back in place.
She was the neo-conservative mother of the 1980s when the sight of a girl around her son was a sacrilege. Egged on by my grandmother she kept a close watch on her straying son. But I saw the same Maa rock so well with my unwed girl friend. Since then I have also seen her transform as a mother-in-law.
I still remember when she touched my head when I came back from Bangalore, my dream completely shattered. Now each day, when I drive out of our apartment she stands at one corner of our balcony watching over me. Each day, I am sure, during that moment she prays to God for me and for us. One of the few solaces in life is that she will not stop praying ever.
