"Ma , aajke English marks peyechhi ." ( "Ma, we got our English marks today") My son squealed from his room. It was over half an hour since he had returned from school. I was arranging the dining table for the lunch. Since their schooltimes had changed due to the winter season, I was having late lunches. By the time both my children returned home it was 2:30 p.m. and while my stomach pined for some morsels , my brain was an entangled mess which saw and heard nothing but food , food , and food .
"Ma, English marks peyechhi!" He screamed again. This time louder and sharper.
I heard him. But what I heard was the bone of contention for at least another half an hour .
" Ki, ilish maachh kheyechish?" ( "What , you ate hilsa fish?")
"Where on earth you found "ilish maachh" in this part of the season? This boy will eat from anywhere around the world but home ! "
I was quite hyper both vocally and physically. I barged into his room. Meanwhile my son was still busy with the BEN TEN posters that he had collected from different sources.
"You still have'nt changed your dress? And where did you eat that blasted 'ilish' ? Who brought it in the tiffin? Did you eat your own tiffin or has it come back untouched?"
He stood gaping at me as I took some time to gasp for breath. He seemed to have a confirmed expression on his face which stated that his mother was slowly sliding away from sanity. By now my daughter had entered the highly dramatic scene , quite incensed and effused by the prospect that 'ilish maachh' WAS indeed available during this time of the year , quite contrary to what she was told or what she had heard.
"Kothai kheli Bhai, ke enechhe tiffin e?" ( Who offered you , brother ; who brought 'ilish ' in tiffin? ) , lapping her tongue over her lips as she simply loved it.
She then turned to me and challenged me why I had kept her in the dark with such misinformation......................!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
At great length , my son took out his English answer paper from his bag and dangled it under my nose. "Eta peychhi" (" I got this " ).
Finally, it dawned on me that I had heard wrong . Hunger not only takes away one's energy but also one's audibility !
Moral of the story: W
hen hungry , EAT: DONT WAIT FOR OTHERS TO EAT.
I write naturally because I think naturally. But I am not a great writer because I am not a great thinker. And again, I write occasionally not because I think occasionally but because I am a mother.
In my teenaged daughter's eyes I am a supermom. In my adolescent son's eyes , ''East or West , my momma is the best". They are over- zealous with their plain, simple mother . All I can say about myself is that these kids of mine are what I live for . Doing that extra bit to see their brilliant million-watt smile is far fulfilling and rewarding than being gifted a million- dollar diamond .
It's a different matter though that no one gifts me a diamond !
Mothering children has its own pleasures...... and ...er...displeasures. Yesterday I sat with my eight- year old son with his school-work . Since a long time he had'nt got a 'star' remark in his school copies. I was sort of sulking and chiding him for his lack of aptitude in studies. Then he drew my notice to the language homework that was due. Wasting no further time I opened the page where he was given a set of sentences to mark the tenses.
1. I am playing with a ball.
2. Mona on the stage.
3. Father bought a new car.
4. I will never disobey .
5. My mother is a beautiful woman.
He responded to all the first three sentences correctly, answering "present tense " for the first two , and "past tense" for the third one. So far so good . By now much of my tension had diffused. With some rejuvenated spirit I proceeded with the last two sentences. But Fates, and Frolic seemed too limited in my fortune, for , when I asked him to say the tenses of the fourth and the fifth statement , he answered that they both were "past tense". Exasperated yet as calm as one can be, I asked him why he said so.
He replied more calmly. There was a genuine nonchalance in his voice, "No one obeys now a days. Didi did so in the past. I too obeyed in the past, did'nt I ? And in the fifth sentence...."
I cut him short. Too my abashment I understood his implications !
He was judging the tenses not by the grammatical rules but by their face value !
Needless to say, my next assignment was to clarify the haze from his mind.
[Although the fifth sentence continued to haunt my mind ! ]
But at 9 o'clock that very night as I was packing his bag , I suddenly noticed the last page of his English copy. He had made a small sketch of me there. The vermilion, the tiny bindi and even the miniscule mole on the right cheek were in place.
Below were written his favourite words, . "East or West, Momma is the best".
