Happy Mother's Day

I remember I was once having a conversation with someone (no prize for guessing) and he was trying very hard to convince me why we did not belong together. Of his many ‘reasons’ one was that we quarrelled too much; there was too much friction between us – and that meant we were highly incompatible. I was too tired to argue with him as I already knew it was a lost cause. But then later it got me thinking whether he was right. And the face of a certain person flashed before my eyes. And I knew the answer.

My day starts with the sound of the yelling of that person. Believe me I have tried many alarm tones on my phones over the years; I tried to set them on maximum volume. I have kept the phone as close as possible to my ear so that I could wake up in time and not to run the last five minutes to reach the bus stop. But never have I ever found a tone so effective and so timely. One shout and I am wide awake.

How about that time when she strongly disapproved of my love interest (not to mention that turned out to be a crapbag later) and wanted to marry me off to someone of her choice? How many times I said that I hated her while crying myself to sleep? Was it the fear of being married to someone I disliked? Or was it for the fact that what had been my home for nine months when I had literally nowhere else to go had suddenly turned against on me? And I was homeless all of a sudden.

She is the most difficult person I have ever met in my life – most critical. When I commit something bad I do not dare look her in the eyes. I know she would see right through me. She criticises my gifts. Although I know she will flaunt it to others when I am not around. She supervises the length of my pants before I step out of the house. “Too much legs! Take them off. Right now.” All hell breaks loose if she ever finds me smiling at my phone. “Got another crapbag boyfriend again, did you?” No, I was probably feeling too happy to just have bagged that Mango dress at 60% discount. But no point telling her that. She disapproves of my shopaholism too. So I am stuck like a lost ship in the Bermuda triangle anyway. I am a believer of Tibetan Buddhism so I believe in reincarnation. And sometimes I get a sinking feeling that she would sit to jot down her autobiography any day soon – Mein Kampf Part 2. Sometimes I wonder how she could possibly have procreated something so opposite of her. If one is overly attentive and critical and hyper obsessive then the other is too absent minded, careless and busy in her own little world of fantasy.

No, we are not one of those ideal pair from the happy family commercials. We don’t cuddle and voice our love for each other every day. We live under the same roof. We get on each others’ nerves. We fight like cats and dogs. Sometimes we don’t talk to each other for days. Ok, now this is not my doing. She just loves to sulk. And on those days I go to bed feeling unsure about reaching office in time the next morning as my ‘alarm’ is temporarily on strike. But whenever I go on a trip, I don’t know why I start feeling that involuntary, painful lump in my throat despite all the excitement I am about to have. My god how am I supposed to stay normal all these days without seeing her? Each and every one of my friends who have accompanied me knows that how each and every time I cry like a little girl before going on a trip. All my life I have been one of those over-protected, pampered children who never fend for themselves.  Even now, after coming home from anywhere the first thing I look for is her. Yes we are probably going to start fighting the next moment though.

It says that home is not a place. More than often home is a person. Home is a feeling of security that no matter how badly the rest of the world has screwed you over, there is that one person who will spread her wings around and take the bullet on your behalf. Sometimes, love IS unconditional.


I am the worst daughter a parent could possibly have. I give them hard time left and right and centre. I am moody, delusional, volatile and extremely difficult to handle. I am also very bad at voicing my affection for anyone – too damaged and paranoid to appear vulnerable. But if there is one person that I love the most then that would unequivocally be her. She is the home I come back to every day. Without her, I am just a ship lacking a navigator in the middle of the ocean.

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