Mum’s the word

I thought I was the mischievous one in the family; the one who cut her 3year old brother’s hair in a cool-experiment-gone-horridly wrong; the one who went to the movies with a CD playing on loop in her room (and whose parents has not figured out this until one of them reads this blog-post).

DNA-wise, children and parents have a lot in common, including the mischief-DNA, but my parents were never my level of mischief (or so I thought).

My dad is a silent, brooding one who is happy with books, chess and movies. My mother is a school teacher who seems to care too much about society, about setting a right example and as such, she always seems very righteous.

With my mum around, even thinking wrong could land you in trouble. She will find out and she will reprimand you. She will make you sit and listen to the moral implications of your actions for at least 45 minutes. I and my brother have this theory that each scolding session lasts 45 minutes because she is a school teacher and is used to taking classes of 45 minutes each; nothing less would do! Had she slapped us and grounded us, it would have been a better (though not effective) punishment than making us listen to the whys and hows of our actions.

So, when you have such a righteous mother, you obviously think she is some sort of judgement-day-solicitor and try to steer clear of trouble (at least when she is around). She always has the image of a person who will take the high road, who will forgive and forget, who will not do any mischief… but guess what?!

We were wrong!

I should have known! We are, after all, her (mischievous) DNA.

So, last year, I was home for a week. We have this unspoken ‘tradition’ of sitting together for dinner. You know, talks-over-dinner sort of thing. That night, it was me, my mum and my brother eating and heartily confessing some of the mischief we did when our mum was not looking. Like, my numerous trips all over the country without informing them or my brother’s attempt at hypnotizing a random stranger on the street and succeeding (yea, he is weird).


Our mother spoke…

And our mouths flew open (with food still in it)

It appears she knows how to make misery out of a man. This unfortunate man in the story happened to be her neighbor/”beloved-elder” who used to annoy her (then a teenager) by coming and sitting long hours at our grand-parent’s place and lecturing my mum on how girls like her should act/behave. So, one fine day, after my mom finished painting a chair, she saw the man approaching her house. So, of course, like all well-behaved girls, she cordially invited him and knowingly made him sit on the newly painted chair. (!!!) Off the man went talking to her and my grand-mom about life and such other things. Slowly, an hour passed, then two… until it became quite late and my grand-mom had to politely ask him to leave. That’s when the man confessed. He had been trying to inconspicuously stand up for the past few hours but he couldn’t! The new paint got stuck all over his dhoti and if he tried to get up, the dhoti would unravel! My grand mom had to take a knife and scrap off the paint from his dhoti to release him! (Bonus points: my mother never got caught!)

I and my brother burst out laughing when we heard this.

We laughed for a really long time! But as the laughter slowly died down (which did after a really, really long time by the way!), there she was, composing herself, a serious look settling on her face, clearing up the plates, telling us that we should never follow her mischievous stunts.

That was the day we realized we might be mischievous but our mother was really the mother of us all!

Kudos to the expert!

By the way, on the topic of experts (going on a tangent here?), did any of you try Godrej expert hair color? I have been getting a lot of rave reviews about this… let me know. And if you don’t already know, I’m talking of this

By and by, here’s what I drew for all the mothers on mother’s day, especially mine (of course!). Me running into her arms was like falling into safe haven from the world’s trouble. 🙂

Until next time,

mom copy

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s