FULL CIRCLE

FULL CIRCLE

“ I am not going to wear that hideous thing you got me for my birthday”, my daughter shouted at the top of her voice, simultaneously bursting into tears”. For God’s sake, I am eighteen and you expect me to wear that” she made an awful face..I couldn’t believe it, the dress I had chosen was a baby pink top, with a little frill around the cuffs and some pretty embroidery at the neck. There was a knee length corduroy skirt to go with it. I had thought it was perfect. Mom, when are you going to realize that I am A GROWN UP NOW! she started again, . That was the last straw,” Grown up! My foot! Then Act like one!!!, " I said aloud before realizing it and stomped out of the room.

I pulled some clothes from the cupboard, called up hubby dear and informed him that for the next couple of days, I will be out and the family ,( one son included) will be taken care by our “GROWN UP” daughter. I Rang my mother and she picked up in the second ring, Yes, dear, how are you? Has it started raining in Mumbai? I answered all her questions, "How is Adit doing? Is Rhea getting a tattoo for her birthday? And told her quietly, “Ma, I am planning to come down to Pune for a few days”.”I, but what about Ram, Rhea and Adit??" my bmother asked, Oh, they will come later, may be to pick me up, I said lamely and ended the conversation.
This was the first time I was running away from a fight, but recently my daughter and me had been having too many arguments, her dress, her friends, her mobile bills, the kind of TV shows she watched.We never seemed to agree on anything these days. She seemed to resent my advise. Ram was still the pampering papa, mainly quiet and non interfereing, never confrontative! Naturally, I ended up being the villain!

The moment I got down from the rickshaw, I saw my mother waiting eagerly for me at the door. I was not going to tell her anything, atleast not yet. She had prepared my favourite curry and after dinner, we sat on the patio talking about all and sundry. As the clock struck ten, I said” Ma, I am feeling tired” let’s go in”.

Next day, Ma woke me up with her special filter coffee, the aroma of which made my mouth water. As I sipped the coffee , I thought about my mother, staying all alone in the modest bungalow, that our daddy had built. She refused to shift to Mumbai “ I am happy where I am, I have this house, lots of memories to live by. And I do have some friends here” . So don’t worry about me, Yes, you all come whenever you can”, she would say.

I finished the coffee and went in search of my mother. Ma, could you please oil my hair?? I miss your oil massage before the ritual oil bath on Tuesdays and FriDAYS”.She smiled mischievously and said “ Oh! But I thought you hated oil in your hair”, Remember, how we used to fight over this oil bath? I smiled sheepishly and said Ma, that was then and this is now”. She said slowly “ Beta, that’s always how things are”.

I realized I had not called home. I wanted to find out how my “grown up” daughter was managing the home front. So I called my husband on his mobile, Hey, how are things? “Oh they are fine! He said nonchalantly”. What are you all having for breakfast” I asked again? Rhea is making something, I can smell something divine in the kitchen”, my husband added, I couldn’t believe it. “Did she clean up the kitchen last night”? I asked , not for one second believing she would have done it.”Hm..u know, we all, sort of chipped in, bye now, call u later” .

For the rest of the day, I relaxed, and later in the afternoon, after a leisurely lunch, I saw my mother cleaning out the wardrobe. I sat beside her, helping her fold sarees, exclaiming over the zari and embroidery. My dad had an eclectic taste and she had a fine collection of chiffon, mysore crepes and kancheevarams. Sadly, these days, she wore very few of them. Sometimes, she would urge me to take some, but I did not have the heart to take those away from her. I knew how much sentiments were attached to it. They were all bought by my father on his trips to various parts of India on official duty.

When we were almost done, I saw a a small pack of clothes, neatly tucked away behind the bottom shelf. I remembered, it was my shelf and asked my mom, “ Mom, what is that on my shelf”? Oh, dear, that, these were the salwar kameez and and some tops, which we had bought for you and you didn’t like it and refused to wear it”, Since we had bought it from Delhi, we couldn’t exchange and get something which you liked”. I took out the pack guiltily and rummaged through it. There were three in all and they were not bad at all. Infact, I had to admit, they even looked nice. I remembered the incident vaguely, I had said that I hated the sight of it, and my parents, they just put the clothes away, wanting not to spoil my birthday. Instead, they had taken me out and bought a dress of my choice.
Once again, I thought about the difference in the way I had handled such a situation, and how my parents had! Feeling strangely remorseful, I blurted out to my mother what had transpired between me and Rhea. “Oh!, she gave me an innocent look, “Rhea already called me and told about it. She said you must have been terribly upset otherwise you wouldn’t have dashed off to Pune without saying bye to her”. "Preethi,Dear, my mom said gently,” Rhea will be just fine, she is a good child, not to worry?”Why don’t you both make up?I am sure she will come around"

But in my heart of hearts I justified my behaviour. Those days, we wore proper bell bottoms, not the form fitting jeans worn inches below the navel or the spaghetti tops ending above the navel. Yes, in many ways, I was still old fashioned at heart. We finished with the wardrobe and I set out to the kitchen to make coffee for us. As the coffee was brewing, my mind worked furiously, going through the not so infrequent arguments , I seem to be having with my daughter these days. In my heart of hearts, I wanted her to come and apologise, but knew, she being my daughter, would never do so..

We sat sipping the coffee in the patio, with the cool evening breeze blowing. I particularly liked this time of the day, the sun about to set, painting its canvas a vivid red with streaks of orange, and the golden glow, settling on the swing in the patio. A strange calm settled over me. In that moment, I decided what I would do, Call my husband and kids over and have a long chat with my daughter in the presence of my mother. I remembered the happier times when she was a quiet soft spoken child,very unlike this rebel. I promised myself we could come to a mutual understanding about her friends, her clothes, her phone bills etc etc.
I heard a car screeching to a halt and looked up and was surprised to see my daughter getting down with a sheepish smile and coming towards me., she put her arms around my hips and hugged me tight.” Mom, I am sorry, but I didn’t mean it that way. Anyways, we miss you and we have come to take you home and nani too, if she would come and stay with us for a few days, yes.. nani???? As if , any mom could resist that, I hugged her back. and turned just in time to see my husband grinning and showing a thumbs up sign to my mother.

Sujatha Natraj