A Calmer You, by Sonal Kalra: A tribute to mummy ke rishtedaar
This Mother's day, understand why your mom has a soft corner for her own relatives.
I don’t usually give such stupid headlines or write on topics that sound silly to begin with (actually, I do. Sorry) But thoda out of the box thinking banta hai nahi sometimes? You see, I recently wrote a post about loving yourself, and much to my good luck, it went down really well with the readers. So many of you wrote back with a pledge to love only yourself that I got seriously worried about the population growth of our country.

I couldn’t think of anything sensible to write this week (dare you to say ‘what’s new’). But then I remembered today is Mother’s Day. So I decided to recall something I had written on Mom and her rishtedaars, some time back. While the whole world goes all mush on this day, my mom is likely to come after me with a stick for this. But look at the kind of risks I’m willing to take, just so I have a ‘different’ take than others. Anyway, the origin of these ramblings is a mail that a girl had written to me.
“I have six maternal uncles and three aunts. Sometimes all of them visit our place, together, when there is some occasion. My mom fusses over them so much that I can’t tell you. Even if I want to study in my room, I’m expected to sit and chat with them and their families, and run errands. Can you please help? And please, please don’t write my name or mom would kill me,” read the mail.
Okay fine, if you insist, I won’t write your name, Preeti, though I don’t see any reason why your mother should kill you if your nana-nani loved and reproduced at such frequency. I’m thinking of ways to help. But before I go on, let me state a clear disclaimer. Nothing that I write in this column pertains to my mom’s relatives. Nothing. If you are reading this, Ma, be known that in the interest of truth, and my ultimate safety, I am prepared to randomly repeat this disclaimer after every few sentences in the write-up.
Coming back to the point, we all have rishtedaars of all kinds, shapes and sizes, in our lives. But there are none to beat mom’s relatives. Ask your dad and his long sigh will tell you if I’m right.
Mothers, actually, are the nicest of God’s creations and they bring all the sweetness and tolerance into this world. So what if this sweetness is slightly more when it comes to her side of the family? (Statutory disclaimer: Not applicable to my mom, at all). A woman leaves her home to settle into a new house and nurture it. It’s obvious that her heart would go out to those she grew up with. Woh aur baat hai that this ‘going out of the heart’ sometimes translates in going out the way when it comes to socialising with them.
A friend of mine often cribs, ‘My mom is otherwise quite penny-wise but when it comes to buying gifts for her side of relatives on occasions, suddenly all restrictions vanish.’ (Statutory disclaimer: My mom does not, ever).
Another one says, ‘Mom talks to her sister almost every day. My mausi knows which exams I’ve flunked and how many hours I spend on the Internet everyday. She’s always ready with advice, sometimes sarcastic comments, about my life, my career, what subjects I should choose and when I should get married.’
Arrey, yaar… it’s no big deal. All relatives in India are born advisers, whether from your mom’s side or dad’s side. Someday, you’ll also do this to someone. Till then, here’s what I have to advise.
1. Thank God that you at least have relatives: Many don’t. We are still in a generation when you at least know what a chacha, mausi, bua or mama means. At the rate young couples are opting for a single child or no kids, the next generation won’t even know what these words mean. As irritated as you may sometimes get when the uncles and aunts drop in, do remember that the cool, firang friends you may have made on the Internet envy Indian families for the warmth and the way siblings, cousins and relatives connect. It’s simply a case of counting your blessings. Sometimes we forget to.
2. Understand your mom’s psyche: A sociologist friend once told me that there are deep-rooted reasons behind why a married woman, in the Indian set-up or universally, is instinctively protective or soft towards her own relatives. Traditionally, from the time a marriage alliance is fixed, the girl’s side subconsciously behaves subservient to the guy’s family — always trying to ensure that ladke waale should not get upset, should be well taken care of, etc. The bride, in this case, your mother (Disclaimer: not mine, surely), throughout her life afterwards, makes subconscious attempts to make up for it. She wants her parents, her siblings to feel important and loved. And hence, sometimes the fuss, which is so normal… in fact, justified. If you see any sense in the above theory, I can safely tell you that it’s mine and I have no sociologist friend. Otherwise, please think that these experts are crazy. They have a theory for any nonsense.
3. Finally, a word for the parents, especially mothers: (Disclaimer: Not mine. Ma, why are you even reading this? It’s not about you, trust me. I love you). Always remember, ma’am, that no child, teenager or grown-up person likes it when reminded in front of relatives that he/she should greet them with respect. If you won’t keep harping ‘namaste karo’ or ‘touch their feet’ or the favourite of the Punjabis — ‘beta, aunty se theek se milo’, perhaps your kids would greet your relatives more warmly on their own. I’m sure you didn’t enjoy being told when you were young.
Also, it never helps to point out the flaws of your children in front of your relatives. Even if the poor relative tries to give a well-meaning advice (they mostly do), he/she becomes a villain in your child’s eyes. Discipline your children in private, let the mama-mausis pamper them. They’ll soon start looking forward to the relatives’ visits. You can thank me then, for the advice. I do accept cash, with a heavy heart.
Sonal Kalra is trying to decode the meaning of the phrase theek se milo. She’s going to attempt something on her relatives. She may not be left with any, afterwards. Mail your sympathies to her at sonal.kalra@hindustantimes.com, facebook.com/sonalkalraofficial. Follow on Twitter @sonalkalra.
