The coolest one

None | By
Published on: May 16, 2006 02:05 am IST

My son stares into the TV and the song ?Kya kool hain mum? makes me cringe. It?s the turn of glamorous mums to have their few minutes on TV. What do I tell my son?

My son stares into the TV and the song ‘Kya kool hain mum’ makes me cringe. It’s the turn of glamorous mums to have their few minutes on TV. What do I tell my son? I neither dance nor sing. Am I uncool? Is my simple homebound mother who has through the years nurtured me with delicious food and good earthy advice uncool?

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When I look back on my childhood and remember the stories that my mum told me and her undemanding unassuming lifestyle as my father got postings in the remotest and most forgotten corners of India ... I feel my mum was the coolest. There must be many like her who lead quiet, obscure lives behind the purdah, but their sons and daughters have received so much love and support from these stay-at-home mums that they’re successful career men and women today.

I could never take my mother’s word as final. My objections were far too many. Why was every potential male college mate a problem for her and target of her suspicion? Why wouldn’t she allow me to carry my hair short?

Sometimes when I saw friends’ smart moms, I felt my mother was far too simple and old-fashioned. I wondered whether all moms worried endlessly about the daughter having grown too dark or too thin. But nothing I said or did could change my mom’s agenda for me, I had to eat well, get good grades and be smart everywhere.

Mother never had her own earnings to spend but with what grace was everything in the house run. We never ran out of anything and there was no wastage. Today when I look at my own bank account with pride, first and foremost I am thankful to my mother for bringing me to this comfortable financial position. I am filled with awe at the ease with which she displayed her eminence — though my father was the breadwinner and she but a humble home-maker.

It never created a void in her or push her to become an image of perceptions. Neither shopaholic nor food addict, my mom for me was dignity personified.

Mother’s formula was simple, pray to God and be honest in your dealings.

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