Dreams

Yes, like every other child, even I fantasize about a time machine.

In all worldly senses, I am way beyond the age to be counted as a child, but just between my mother and myself, I am still very much a small child. And this blog is just for that core reason of my existence, of my identity, my ‘Maa’.

I want to build a time machine… not the one that takes me to the future, where aliens of today are no more aliens then… or the one that takes me to a tour of past, where I can march with Gandhi or be a muse of some Mughal prince… none of the popular destinations of a time-machine fascinates me enough!

I still want to build a time machine, and desperately want to do that. I want it to take me back to the times I spent with my mother and relive them once again. I want just one chance to act, respond and thank her differently.

When she suddenly felt sad and thought loudly that she missed her mother, I would switch off the television and go close to her. I would ask her about how she felt and plead her to tell me stories about her mother. I would never shush her and keep watching my favorite show on air.

When she oiled my hairs and tied them into pleats, I would smile back at her and run to look at my pretty face in the mirror. I would never grumble and swear to wash my hairs, first thing in the morning.

When she forced me to take an extra serving of food, or come to my study table with a glass of milk, I would give her a hug or smilingly accept it. I would never shout back and refuse her extra serving.

When she would complain about her arthritis pain, I would go running and apply balm, sit with her for some time and ask her, if I could do something for her. I would ask her a little later, if she is feeling better. I would never ignore her complaints and keep continuing whatever I was doing then.

When she would make something special for me, I would just devour it. Ask for more and plead her to make it again for me. I would not show my ‘no-interest’ attitude again.

When she took a dress out for me to wear, I would wear just that. I would never criticize her choice.

When she would come upstairs with me, I will never run and climb the top first. I would walk with her; follow her till the last steps.

When she would say what made her happy, or what she wanted, I would listen to it and make a note of it. I know my mother, she would never say it. So, I will ask her what would make her really happy and make that happen for her…

There is so much, I want to do once again, with and for my mother. I know, I was a good child, I probably did many things that I have listed above, but I never realized the importance then. I want to consciously live with her and thank God for each moment, I spend with her.

For now, after 6 years that I am away from my Maa, I feel like an orphan. I am still learning to walk, talk and live … lead my life without her. And believe me Maa, I am failing badly.

I have never been able to wake up in the morning or go to bed in the night for any day of these 6 years, without her thoughts and pains of not being close, in my mind. Like Shekhar says that memories should make you feel happy, I have still not mastered that art…

My time machine is just a fantasy, my wishful thinking… I know. But I also know… nature has its own way of healing. Like, suddenly, my dry hairs have started generating oils by themselves. I don’t need to oil them frequently and they look oily. I nowadays know, when I am hungry and pick up something to eat all by myself… and so more. I know Maa you are blessing me at every step.

Lastly, I remember, when we used to go to Durga Puja with Maa and Baba, he would howl for a rickshaw and ask “Dhai sawaari… kitna loge”? Wish I could smile back at the Rickshaw Puller’s glare and never make a sorry face all through the way. Also, when my college classmate and a volunteer of ‘Kalibadi’ would miss to give “bhaaja” on my ‘bhog’ plate and my Maa would call “you forgot the kid”, I would never feel ashamed all through my college days in facing that classmate or his friends.

For, today, I want so much for someone to call me just that, a kid.

This entry was posted on Thursday, October 05, 2006 at 11:59 AM. You can skip to the end and leave a response.