So I was in this cab. With Maa and Bhai. And I was, as usual, bickering away with my very pesky sibling for the window seat. (Do not ask me how two people can fight over two window-seats. We just were. So there.)
The fight is not the point here. The point is, suddenly, during the conversation I realized that Maa had been relinquishing her window seats to either one of us for the last 20 years.
Holy Shit! That's a LOT of time spent sitting in the middle.
I also realized that I have never seen her eat the chicken leg (it invariably goes to either me or bhai) OR that last piece of chocolate.
Poor Ma.
Sacrificing away since 1988.
This mothering thing is harder than I thought.
9 comments:
there are three window seats to fight for in a cab, dimwit.
yes, you could just sit in front for a change.
there was a helper in the front, with the driver.
dimwits.
ok as far as my ma is concerned, sheis guided by one golden rule " NO COMPROMISE where food is concerned"...she hogs all the alu in the mangsho, the last bit of chaatni, and the extra dim in the dim-er dalna, the mishti i never even get to see if dont ask for it, chocolates she mostly leaves for baba and me.she takes away my salary at the beginning of each month, and...well i could go ON...phew! she even tries to look like me...don't like her much, but i guess yo got that...
achcha. ok. i believe you.
run a mile when you see a cab with a helper in/on/around it.
the left side window is always better....
....sometimes we miss the obvious and the silence.
ekdom thik.. my ma eats the gola piece... and doesnt even complain.
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