A Mother’s Day Note.
It was the early 90’s, I was a hyperactive young kid of about five or six that was slowly trying to understand the world around me which was so brilliant that I can say I was lucky to have an amazing childhood where I can very arrogantly say, I was treated like a prince living in a castle!
Let me paint a picture for you… In our home, which, if I really had to talk about and describe, it would need another blog post to cover it as there is just so much to talk about that place. But to keep it focussed, let me describe a very specific part of it. The Drawing Room. It was really spacious and huge. So much that it stretched so wide that for a 6 year old hyper-active kid like me, it was like running 100 meters on a track back and forth, The decor was elegant and timeless. The floor covered with a bright beige carpet, very english wooden shelfs and tables with beautiful lamps. A rather over-sized sofa that ran along an L shaped corner off a wall that could probably seat 10 people on it. The walls were covered with designer strips of beautiful wallpapers. We had an AMAZING CRT color TV, which had a woofer system attached to the top, at the back, which was a first at that time. A Rarity. Everyday when I used to come back from school, I would sprint around the entire home, climb the door arches, perform some crazy acrobatic moves (yes, I was a crazy child) and when I would finally get tired… I would go by the couch and face it the wrong way, kneel on it , rest my chin onto the soft and springy head (pretty much like how a dog does) and support my head and look over through the windows which used to overlook an enormous terrace which further overlooked a swimming pool separated by a gigantic Gulmohar tree (oh yeah! those were the days).
As I would see the daylight fading away and the rays of the moon streaking through the clouds as the night settled in, there used to be times that I wondered when would the day come that i am all grown up (yeah, genius that i was, i often had conversations of great intellectual values with myself)
You see this place, was not a house. It was a home. A place built out of love and happiness enveloped by an invisible layer of warmth and protection. I would often spend weekends, riding a bike on the terrace, roller blading, running around, having my friend come by and keep beating me at all the video games (even upto this day), or having stay overs and playing hide and seek and planning our big sneak attack into the kitchen for a midnight snack. Sunday’s used to be days of super laziness and relaxation, well that was the only day my dad got time off from work and I remember spending sundays with my mum n dad, at home just listening to music, fooling around and watching movies.
These are happy memories, although over the years, for some reasons Sunday’s started to depress me, even up until this day, especially Sunday evenings. They had a vibe that was so uninviting….maybe because it was a reminder for me that fun and games time with my family are over for that week and a serious work life begins come Monday.
My dad’s always been a very important and busy person at work, very often working late and flying to different cities. My sister who was studying in a boarding school was a special attraction during summers and winters… But how I used to miss having her home during the months she was back in school studying. So it usually used to be my mum n me for most of the time. I remember she used to wake me up early in the morning to get ready to goto school. She’d pick me up straight from the bed and make me sit on this crisp white elegant looking marble slab in my bathroom, where she’d tell me to quickly brush my teeth whilst she got other errands completed.
Me being this really lazy early morning child, used to wait for the moment my mum used to leave the washroom, Just then, I used to quickly lay a towel onto that very chilly marble slab and rest my head to sleep on a little longer… even if it was just two minutes.. hehe… I really did trouble my mum as a child. In the evenings, she, usually spent hours after I got back from school, “Cleansing” me from all the mess that I used to make of myself playing at school right up until I was squeaky clean. My shirt used to have muddy stains… my socks used to be smelly. Oh the wrath that I laid on my mum as a child…
Even so, after all this, she would make me a nice meal for dinner… make sure i finish all my food, which was a serious task for me to undertake while all i could do was jump around and talk and scream. All that hyperactivity had to come out in some for you know!
Later in the evenings, sometimes the weather would get stormy and it would start raining. I always loved the sweet smell of rain seeping into the drying mud that would imbibe it in relief. It would get cold… My mum would then tuck me into the couch with a warm fleece blanket and sit down next to me by the tv and watch this show that my mum loved, named Remington Steele on StarTV Channel and to be honest I didn’t understand a single thing. But I used to be sooo happy to watch this show… especially with my mum… Its one of the earliest memories I have of my life. Although 90% of times… while watching it, would actually put me to sleep. But this show always stayed in my mind. Its opening and closing credit soundtrack composed by Henry Mancini has a haunting effect that immediately re directs my thoughts to those very days of my childhood. Whenever I hear it, it takes me through time and reminds me of those cold rainy nights where I’d be warm and safely tucked into my blanket by mum’s side
This is of course just one such memory of so many that I believe has shaped me into the person I am today… But what all of this makes me wonder is that how much our mum and dad really do for us when we are younger… and how easy it is to forget because we are at an age where our brain is still developing.. only to realize years later as to how special those days were.
So here is to all the unconditional love that my mum has always provided me through my younger years, through the rebellious and angry teenage years right up until this day. All that they endure and go through to make sure we are as happy as we can be. For maybe today I realize it, but deep inside I have always valued it. To my dear Mum. Happy Mother’s Day. You’re a word that hasn’t been defined yet. But until then, I would say. You are simply AWESOME.