Kyonki Beti Bhi Kabhi Poti Thi!

Once upon a time, I was the nucleus of my parent’s world; being the youngest of three daughters & a natural drama queen, I cornered most of the attention of the family! My poor, helpless brother, when he arrived into our little universe, dominated by women, didn’t know what had hit him & spent most of his life, staying out of our way; until he escaped to go to college & with relief, soaked up every blissful moment of a sister-less existence! No surprises here, that when time came for him to get hitched, top of the specification chart was, ‘someone totally unlike my sisters!’

One of life’s unsung pleasures is that state of paradise, when you enter the big bad world of the working class, start earning the big – ok, in my humble case – small bucks … & live at home with amma & appa! Oh, the bliss of waking up to the rich aroma of filter coffee in the air, which I am ashamed to admit, happened because my poor dad got up at some unearthly hour to brew! Clothes freshly laundered & ironed, beds made & breakfast in the best joint in town – mom’s kitchen! Pure decadence! Dad, on his walks, exchanged your library books, posted your letters at that old fashioned, almost extinct place called the post-office; mom was friends with all mine, took surprise sleepovers, loud music & noisy giggles in her stride & always instinctively knew what a bunch of overgrown, adult females, behaving like teenagers, wanted to eat! Life rocked!

Enter my knight in shining armor – this one had a motor bike with a spark plug that wouldn't spark! When my brother came down from university to meet him & hugged him warmly, I glowed, until I heard my blunt bro confiding to my husband-to-be, “Thank God you turned out to be so decent. You should check out some of the losers she hangs out with!’ The glow dimmed to a glower!!!

Post shaadi, at the bidaai at the station, I observed my Pita-shri take Ashok aside & they proceeded to have a hush-hush conversation. My heart overflowed with love, knowing that appa was probably telling my naya pati, to look after his princess well; later I asked Ashok what my dad had said to him. Hesitantly & reluctantly, we had a ‘sach ka saamna’ moment: my father apparently told my better half, that his daughter was high maintenance ,impulsive, hot tempered & child-like. He hoped that Ashok would be patient & understanding, despite all that! My dad was a relieved man – his conscience was clear AND he had ceremoniously given away his worries …. et tu, Appa??!!

With Beti-S’s arrival, we were officially the ‘three idiots!’ This is where my kahaani actually begins. I became a full time mom & weirdly, my sensible, loving parents, were suddenly replaced, by doting, dotty grandparents! The sacred morning coffee routine was a thing of the past. I mean, how could I expect them to waste their time brewing caffeine (not good for you anyway!) when they just wanted to gaze at their precious grand-daughter?!

Nineteen years after our jigar ka tukda arrived on planet earth, my mom still begins every phone conversation, by loudly (she till date believes that the volume has to be proportionate to the geographical distance!!!) enquiring, “how is Shiksha?” An occasional aberration & she fondly asks about my health & when I trip with delight, am humbly brought down to mother earth with her dialogue –‘you need to take care of your health, to be fit to take care of your daughter!’

Growing up in a typical Tamil Brahmin household, rising and shining in the wee hours of the morning, was a sacred code, not to be messed with. The door was yanked open, curtains drawn open to let in cruel sun rays, pots clanking … yep, no choice but to get up!

When on vacation at my parent’s place, I envisioned Shiksha, who I am convinced is batgirl reincarnate, being treated to the same rude, morning ritual.
To my horror, discovered that mean parents make besotted grandparents. When their poti slept the mornings away, my mother would firmly instruct the maids to keep the curtains drawn, the door shut tightly & gaze at Beti-S’s sleeping form & inform me “You know, they work so hard, that they need this rest!” Huh …….

More shocks ahead – the same ‘amma appa’ who firmly told us that we had two choices, to eat what was made, or not to eat, were graciously checking out what their precious angel wanted to eat!

Uss zamaane mein, we bought clothes twice a year – on birthdays & diwali.
Now, Shiksha was taken on shopping trips every day - ‘a gift from Thatha-Paati’! My weak protests were squashed with, ‘you are young only once, so we want her to live it up!’ Could have done with some of this bindaas philosophy when I was a young girl!!!

Moral of the story: I would have liked to be my parent’s grandchild, rather than a mere daughter, if you know what I mean. But justice will prevail –‘Kyonki Beti Bhi Kabhi Poti Thi!'

Empty Nesters - the five stage theory!

Stage 1:

The virgin steps into an unknown territory; when you leave your heart & credit card behind with your offspring & enter an empty ghar for the first time – what this mom did was to keep the door of daughter dearest’s room, firmly shut. To go into that pink, purple & green kamra, (we could stop here to discuss the violent hues, but maybe not, because I am determined to stay focused & resist the temptation to go off tangent!) sans its rightful owner, makes it difficult to be brave & not bawl your heart out, for your little sparrow! That she is a fully grown adult, who is likely to want to kill herself, or me, for describing her thus, is immaterial – when she’s a doddering eighty year & if I am still alive, (scared you, huh?!), she will still be my baby & that’s her cross to bear!
Stage 2:
Theek hai! So the mourning period is over & my disapproving houseboy (who lovingly addresses me as “Maa-Ji” & makes me feel like a fossil, but all that maaf, because of the giggles he inspires, every time he calls my husband “Papa”!) insists that I set aside sissy emotions & open up that door, so that he can clean the room. “Khulja Simsim” & voila, “Didi’s” (yep, if yours truly is “Maa-ji” & my better half is “Papa’, then “Didi” it is!) room is back in business!
Stage 3:

Optimism raises its pretty head in this phase. Skype, calls, mails, messages, bbm’s & yep, even some old fashioned letters …. dullen the judaai ka gham! Every dark cloud has a silver lining & here it comes – yeah, yeah, I miss my daughter, but can’t control the excitement at the rare opportunity to clean up her room without worrying about the room’s resident shrieking at me not to clean up her mess, or to deal with her outrage at my wanting to chuck stuff away & that she will clean the room herself … someday!!! Aaaaah, this is pure therapy – to make that bed without a single wrinkle on it, to neatly stack stuff (which the young style guru of the house labels as nerdy!) fill garbage bags up with the junk which has unbelievably fitted all into that room … & I thought I would never feel happy again for a long time!

Stage 4:
Taking my cue from the movie “Bad Teacher”, I christen the upcoming period “Bad Parent”! The room cleaned & cleared, looks divine, spacious & much better than mine! First, my laptop is relocated to “Didi’s” study table; Like Goldilocks, I find the spot ‘just right!’ But I called this stage “Bad Parent” so enter “Papa” too! He slides the treadmill to his daughter’s room & he too, finds the distance from the treadmill to the TV, ‘just right!’! From then onwards, its invasion of the room, all the way! Clothes from the laundry are kept in the cupboards ‘(just for a few hours till I find time to sort them out’, you tell yourself!), the drawers & shelves are packed with stuff you can’t seem to find place for, your cosmetics find their way to the dressing table here ….. Yes I am ashamed, but kya karein, control nahin hota!!!
Stage 5:
The wait is over & the daughter of the house is finally coming home for the holidays. My emotions – a mixed bag, of bubbling joy, ecstasy, uncontrollable smiles (which have creeped out quite a lot of folks!) …. & panic & pure guilt! OMG, the room has to be cleared & wiped clean of all traces of us having wickedly taken it over!
The pots are going to be simmering with Shiksha’s favorite dishes, the frig is getting stocked up, films are being downloaded for family movie nites ….. & some serious clearing up is happening – so much to do, so little time!!!