January 23, 2016

I could never be like my mom

In the past few days, I have come to analyze every aspect of why I can never be like my mum. She started making chapatis at about 10 years of age and by 11, she already made wonderful, round chapatis. I am 20, I can only make them round but always end up under or overcooking them. Even though, she lived in a small house compared to the one we live in today, she would broom and mop it everyday after school. (Holy shit!) All I remember doing was throwing my stuff off and lazying around till it was time for tuition. Post that, she would attend her classes and come home with a bag full of vegetables. Jump to age 16, she handled the whole house and managed her college. At 18, like any other parents of that time, her too started to find the soulmate for her. Nobody in her family, even after being middle class, was orthodox but they just followed the suit of society back then, in the 90s. She completed 19 years on 2nd Dec, '94 and married my dad on 4th Dec, '94. She was no more Geeta but now Sneha. My aunt's name is Geeta too and hence, she had to change hers.

My father's family sucks, to be very honest. He is the youngest of them all, with two elder sisters and one eldest brother. The only people I love is my dad, late grandpa (who I don't have much memories with), my late grandma (who I respected only few days before she passed away), a sister and two brothers. That's it. All the others are just negative to have around.

Back to mum's life. Given she got married at 19, I'm sure you might have guessed by now that she left her college. My dad lived in a place called Ambivali, which truly sucks. It's like an abandoned land and more like a village. Still is. My mum, coming from an open minded place like Juhu, survived here. I mean it totally when I say it. As a child, I have read a journal she maintained. She was never a victim of domestic physical violence but the cheap mentality and thinking of the others around her totally sucked; pure mental torture. My father, I don't know why, was helpless back then.

The place where they lived sucked so much, that my mum was eve-teased even when she was visibly pregnant. 

14th November '95, I was born. My mum's side jumped with joy while my dad's hated me except my grandpa. They all wanted a boy. In her journal, I remember reading something that said,"Sonu is born today. Deepak (my dad) cried today. We are so happy. She (me) is an angel and we love her and I'll do anything for this wonderful child."

I was born even before their first wedding anniversary. Last November, I turned 20, the exact age, my mum gave birth to me. Back in her life, shit continued to happen. She continued to hear the taunts but she dealt with it because her life included me.

Somewhere in '96, my nanu (mum's dad) gifted them a house in Airoli and we all shifted here. Things thankfully got better for good, at least bearable. I even remember reading a suicide note that said she would leave my sister and me at my nanu's place and then die. I read that when I was about 14 and I cried too much after reading it. All I asked myself was "Why did she bear all this? Why didn't she speak up? Why did she never share this with anyone?" I felt angry and sad at the same time.

On 28th July '98, my sister was born and again nobody except my mum's family and dad were happy. A few days before the delivery, my grandpa had passed away. The torture continued to happen. Nothing much changed.

My mum soon started taking tuition because she wanted me to study in a CBSE school. And for that, I'll forever be grateful to her. My dad was no rockstar back then so they both worked hard enough to keep me and my sister happy.

13th July 2002, my brother entered this world and that's when people left her body alone. By the age of 26, she had three children to take care of, manage a grumpy old mother-in-law and tolerate mind-fucking relatives.

The financial struggles continued to exist because both my siblings followed suit. CBSE schools back then cut the pocket too deep but my parents still managed it.

2003, my mum opened a playschool, started earning and saving for herself and us because dad was too blinded by his sisters and brothers who shamelessly looted him.

1st August 2007, we shifted to a new, bigger house in Airoli itself which was close to my mum's playschool. I'm so glad that there were people who helped her out, financially, morally, and emotionally to run this playschool. She loves kids so it was pretty obvious, my mum was doing mighty well.

Things got better with time before 2011 hit. My grandma who was totally healthy decided to give up. She stuck to her bed. Please add the nonsense my dad's sisters added in her mind that it was time and soon she'll die. She did, in 2013. And my grandma was blinded by all the nonsense my dad's sisters visited often just to feed her mind that she will die soon.

My mum, who had been tortured by this very same woman for a good part of her life, took care of her perfectly till the end. Given my grandma's worsening situation, my dad's sister stayed a whole month before she gave up on 7th Dec that she wasn't going to die, only to come back on 8th and find her dead.

My mum was feeding her water that morning and that's when she took her last breath. Mum says those last few moments, my grandma looked at her with respect and love.

Things really didn't end here. Now there was going to equal partition of all little that my grandma possessed. We totally stepped out of this. My mum and dad were not even closely interested in that shit.

For all the rituals, the whole khaandan stayed at my place for almost half a month. I didn't cry at my grandma's death while everybody around was howling. And of course, the howling was all too fake. I still remember that mum, dad and I cried before the fakers swayed in and then later when all the drama was over, 15 days later, we cried like hell. We all had our own reasons. Mine were that I didn't understand the petty selfishness those people had developed and because I would miss the way my grandma made plain paper dosa. That's it.

There are a few more broken pieces like my mum ending the friendship with her best friend; simply because she advised to ask my dad's salary back then. A time when she slipped about her abortion to me but I have no more details because I didn't (still don't) have the guts to bring that out. Back then, my aunts, their kids used to spend the whole summer at our place and if calculated, my dad spent about 1L just completing their demands.

My mum has had a crazy life. But things of course got better. I grew up too. Grew up enough to fire back my grumpy grandma, aunts, uncle and kill their egos, shame and shut them down whenever possible.

The happy ending is my mum is living her life now. She even got herself not only a Bachelor's but also a Master's degree. She is back to teaching the little ones but not back to having a playschool, which works fine. My dad, after my grandma's death has clearly realized who is more important. He stopped spending money on the useless nuts. She hated cooking. So, I got her a cook. There are maids to do all the households. And when it comes to the dad's family, I only talk to my 2 brothers and one sister. Everybody else is non-existent.

I asked my mum why she carried the unnecessary weight and all she replied was,"I had different reasons at different times. Before and after marriage, my only goal was to keep my parents happy. I didn't mention how much my life sucked to anybody because I wouldn't break it off with your dad. He was loving, that much I knew. But more than that, it was my own dad's respect I cared about, his decision to find the right man for me. Then you kids were born and my life rotated around you."

And, that's exactly why I can never be her.