Everyday Musings > Happy 35th

Mother is chubby. And has twinkling eyes when you look through her glasses. She's soft, like a cotton cloud I could sink into. There's something about her saris. My brother used to sleep with one of them as his blanket for a while. He also had this habit of holding her earlobe as he slept. I just hug her, as much as I can. It's fun to watch her cook. She's like a bird. Her vegetables are cut neatly, her masalas are just right and food always served fresh and hot. She's an incredible cook and loves experimenting with new recipes. She makes a lot of things. Vegetarian for my dad who loves eating only mallu food, baked dishes and fish and prawns for me, something special for my brother who I always think she loves a wee bit more. Hmph. I love to take her shopping. And buy her loads of things. She loves to feed me with fruits and almonds and gooseberries and karele ka juice. Yikes. Mom taught me that the way you cut your vegetables affects their taste. She taught me to welcome people, to never take life too seriously, to laugh as much as I like and cry as much too. She taught me to serve with love, to always keep my home clean and to love plants. She taught me that one can be traditional and modern and it does not conflict. She taught me how to care for others, how to draw, how to love colours and how to be a child even after I grew up. She taught me the first prayer I ever heard. She taught me equality and selflessness. She taught me love. And everything I know about it.

Father challenges me. He treats me as an equal. He bought me my first big book, served me my first glass of beer, helped me with all my elocutions and debates and is the reason I know so many words. He tried teaching me to write and read Malayalam many times but I never learnt. He often took my brother and me to India Gate to have ice cream and always bought us balloons. He taught me how to play chess. We argue, constantly. Father loves collecting newspaper clippings. He says he'll read them when he retires. Only when he retired, he went right back to work. He's a workaholic and works all day. And night. He truly enjoys what he does. He was 55 I think when he worked on his first computer and taught himself so much that he's now an IT consultant. I'm very proud of him but I don't think I've ever told him that. He loves my new home, tells me its warm and nice and is finally convinced I can live alone. Father loves whiskey and beer and cricket matches and Malayalam movies. He loves Aamir Khan and calls SRK a monkey. Grin. He loves his brothers and sisters and always plans to bring them together every occasion he gets. He likes kitchen gardens and always plants lime and chilli and kadi patta in his ancestral home whenever he does back. He started an education fund for poor children in his village. He's very organized and has files for everything. He's saved every card or gift I've given him since I was a child. He saves and invests and wishes I would save too. He loves me and is proud of me and never stops telling me that.

Today my mother and father celebrate their 35th wedding anniversary, and I dedicate this musing to them.