Wednesday, May 09, 2007

Dear Aai,

Though we talk to each other everyday, there are some things which are never expressed. Like, I have never told you how much I admire you. Are you blushing? Hehehe!
Well, they say “Like Mother, like daughter”. So true in so many ways and not so true in some.
My tiny frame, my love of nature, love of animals, traveling and making friends, reading books and newspapers, are just some of the things I have taken after you. And there are some of your qualities which I keep wishing for. Like your hard working nature, the determination to successfully complete whatever tasks you undertake, and the magic in your hands which makes impossible seem such a stupid idea. Your hands bake cakes/biscuits, cook delicious meals, knit lovely sweaters, stitch frocks/skirts/curtains/pillow covers/salwar kameezes, sew buttons/soles of sandals, love and tend, care and mend. Then I wish I could be as generous, patient, courageous, strong and smart as you are. I would have also naively wished to be beautiful like you, but then it’s not possible to change my features without going under the knife.
All these years you have taught us so many things. You not only helped us with studies but also encouraged us to learn new things. You made our summer vacations so special by keeping us involved in something. I think the most important lesson you taught us by example was that everything’s possible if you are ready to put in that extra effort. You also taught us to be God-loving and not God-fearing. So for us God is not some vague, supernatural force, but a dear friend.

I can imagine the glow on your face reading this post. I know how proud you and Baba feel about us and our achievements (however small). I also know that we have a long way to go, just to keep up with our role model. Baba and your success as parents lies in the fact that we want to be good human beings, just like you. Congratulations Aai!

If you are wondering (which I am sure you are not) what’s the whole thing about…Wishing you a very happy Mothers’ Day!!!

Yours lovingly,

PS: I am writing this for K2 and K3 as well because we 3 think alike. Thanks to you!
Another PS: Wishing a very happy Mothers’ Day to all the mothers who make us who we are.

Tuesday, May 01, 2007


If you ask my Mom which animal best described me as a child, "Monkey" she will say without missing a beat. “Not just as a child, even now she is a Monkey”, she will most likely add. No, no, she is not abusing me, she is just making it easier for you to imagine. Getting the head or hand stuck between two window bars, jumping from about 5-6 feet and missing the target, etc were some of the highpoints of my career as a monkey.

As a child, I found myself in weird situations while actually doing nothing. Something as simple as walking through the narrow corridor would end up in me bumping into the walls, hurting something or the other. And this happened almost everyday. Twice I have got my head and leg stuck in the window bars. On both occasions, I was too proud to ask my mom for help. So, I have ended up sitting/standing on the window pane for a couple of hours before my mom came to know the reason for my sudden inactivity.

The good thing that comes from this is stardom and popularity. Your stories will be told to other kids in the family/neighborhood. "One day K was looking out of the window. She did not listen to her mother and then...."So what if at your expense people will have a good laugh.

There's one memory that is particularly vivid. I was in class 1. I had won a prize in a drawing competition and we (K2, K3 who was a baby then, my Mom, uncle and me) were seated in a hall for prize distribution.

For chairs we had a fiber-seat fitted on a steel frame. There was enough gap between the seat and the frame for a tiny hand to slide through. My mom had told me to sit quiet, with folded hands and not get into any trouble. Despite that my hands kept on sliding through those gaps. And then my left hand got stuck in the gap. For 5 minutes I tried wriggling it free. Then my mom, my uncle took turns pulling my hands, pushing the chair, huffing-puffing in between and of course scolding me all the while. There were occasional "Phatacks" on my back. Then my name was announced. Innocently I suggested to my Mom that I could go with both of them holding the chair behind me. My Mom paid no attention to anything and kept at wrenching my hand out. 5-7 minutes later my hand came out free, red and sore. No, I didn’t miss the limelight. The organizers called out my name again.

At home, when the monkey told the whole thing excitedly to her dad with the shiny trophy in her hand, she had forgotten all the embarrassment and "Phatacks".