My mother, she hated sounds. She had a migraine, or she claimed one most days. The house we rented was not on the main street. The only sound there was, would be an occasional fish-seller on his cycle, a scooter, the neighbors dog barking once in a while telling us all he was still there.
I detested and loved summer holidays. I detested and loved school. Both for the same reason. Escape. All I wished was to escape her face. If you have a mother like mine then you know better than anyone what helpless means. To be not able to console her, to say more than- when I grow up, I will never make you cry or act like a clown to just get a rare laugh out of her.
Helpless, both me and her. Her, in her inability to take solace in her kids and mine, my age. What was I to do today that would solve things, was my single most prominent thought from age eight to say, sixteen.
I am always fascinated by definitions. My uncle gifted me a big blue hard bound dictionary. Years later I would check up words- Respect, helpless, intercourse, fidelity, woebegone. These are the ones I remember.
My mother knew no better. I am 26 soon and she had me and my sister by the time she was twenty six. Most of my ideas are insane, most of my thoughts, even now are childish. I am still probably playing games with myself, sometimes with my husband and life. Why then should I expect my mother to have made sane, practical choices, decisions based on pragmatism. No, I don't blame her at all. Its just life playing tricks.
My mother screamed at me if I made the slightest sounds. And so I wouldn't sneeze too loud. I had occasional sneezing fits, mild wheezing. I hid under the parapet. There was a giant square shaped hole built for perhaps accommodating two air conditioners, my favorite summer housing. I waited there till my sneezing fits were over. Even now I can't bring myself to sneeze loudly. Everyone deems it cute- Like a kitten's sneeze. There is nothing cute about it. Its just habit.
Sneezing wasn't allowed, the atrociousness of that is now so clear.
The person I live with now is a mother. She is amazingly patient, and generous. She gives more than she asks for. I watch the fights she has with her daughter and sometimes I am jealous. If only my problems had been as simple as- you 'ordered me to cook dinner.'
I have cooked dinner for four sullen people by candlelight. In this house, my earlier fears of sound pop up. When they were having a fight and my phone beeped loudly, my heart literally jumped in my throat. Silence is at all times the norm, don't you remember that?
My mother sends me sad texts now. They are all in abbreviated form but I can sense the sadness in these- i wsh i hd dn tngs dif"
You don't need to say it amma, I reply, I already know, no grudges.
I detested and loved summer holidays. I detested and loved school. Both for the same reason. Escape. All I wished was to escape her face. If you have a mother like mine then you know better than anyone what helpless means. To be not able to console her, to say more than- when I grow up, I will never make you cry or act like a clown to just get a rare laugh out of her.
Helpless, both me and her. Her, in her inability to take solace in her kids and mine, my age. What was I to do today that would solve things, was my single most prominent thought from age eight to say, sixteen.
I am always fascinated by definitions. My uncle gifted me a big blue hard bound dictionary. Years later I would check up words- Respect, helpless, intercourse, fidelity, woebegone. These are the ones I remember.
My mother knew no better. I am 26 soon and she had me and my sister by the time she was twenty six. Most of my ideas are insane, most of my thoughts, even now are childish. I am still probably playing games with myself, sometimes with my husband and life. Why then should I expect my mother to have made sane, practical choices, decisions based on pragmatism. No, I don't blame her at all. Its just life playing tricks.
My mother screamed at me if I made the slightest sounds. And so I wouldn't sneeze too loud. I had occasional sneezing fits, mild wheezing. I hid under the parapet. There was a giant square shaped hole built for perhaps accommodating two air conditioners, my favorite summer housing. I waited there till my sneezing fits were over. Even now I can't bring myself to sneeze loudly. Everyone deems it cute- Like a kitten's sneeze. There is nothing cute about it. Its just habit.
Sneezing wasn't allowed, the atrociousness of that is now so clear.
The person I live with now is a mother. She is amazingly patient, and generous. She gives more than she asks for. I watch the fights she has with her daughter and sometimes I am jealous. If only my problems had been as simple as- you 'ordered me to cook dinner.'
I have cooked dinner for four sullen people by candlelight. In this house, my earlier fears of sound pop up. When they were having a fight and my phone beeped loudly, my heart literally jumped in my throat. Silence is at all times the norm, don't you remember that?
My mother sends me sad texts now. They are all in abbreviated form but I can sense the sadness in these- i wsh i hd dn tngs dif"
You don't need to say it amma, I reply, I already know, no grudges.
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