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!'