The weather is confused this year. It does not know whether it has arrived or arriving. The sun is more confused, sometimes it glows in all its middle eastern glory and sometimes it just goes and takes a nap.

The bugs are having a romp. When they get tired of jumping around; they go and attack the susceptible.

Overworked moms, moms needing a break send their kids to school along with the bug. The kids play and hug their classmates and pass the lovebug around.

And so the friends bring the bug home and spread some more at home. And at this time the mama misses her mama the most. 😦


My mother is neither perfect nor is she a superwoman. She knows her kids well, is jealous, possessive, diligent, hardworking etc. I won’t say she is calm and can handle tense situations. On the contraryΒ  when ever there were tense moments at home my mother could be found in the toilet.

My brother has always been her favorite (if she reads this post, the phone line will get crackling hot πŸ˜‰ ). But still whenever I need her, whenever I feel sick; though we are miles apart; she knows. Don’t ask me how but she knows.

But then she is quite agile too. Long back when we were kids; my father had to go on morning shift (@ Bhilai Steel Plant). The shift would start at 6am and so she would get up at 5 or so and get the tiffin ready. After he left at 5.40am or so she decided to take a short nap. After some minutes she heard a sound and she opened her eyes to see a stick edging slowly inside through the window. (those days thieves would steal whatever was near the window with a stick which had a hook on one end.) So what does she do; she slowly gets up holds the stick and shoves it back. The poor thief falls with a thud and then she screams,’bulau kya police’ (shall I call the police). And he runs, limping, holding his temple, he runs.

Our house had a big garden. We had gooseberry, sugarcane, variety of flower bushes and about 6 varieties of mango trees. And mind you if anyone took any without permission. When the mangoes had ripened she would distribute it to all-friends, neighbours, duddwala(milkman), gardener, maid everyone. The students from a nearby school would sometimes come to steal some. Every day she would hide in obscure places with a stick and chase them away. One year the thotapuris had flowered in plenty. ANd when they were about to ripen she made my father get them down. How you want to know? My mother and sis stood with a gunny bag, my father took a hooked stick and pulled the mango down on the gunny bag. Each mango was about a kilo. She took all of them to the store and arranged them neatly in a pile of hay, so that they would ripen.

Next morning we woke up to high pitchΒ  screaming. Some thief had entered the store through the ventilator and stolen all the mangoes. She mourned for about a week. πŸ˜€

16 thoughts on “Memories

  1. Must have been a lovely time those days.I have seen the quarters with its sylvan surroundings.Bhilai was then a very pleasant place to live.
    The post brought smile.Thanks

  2. oh my this is nostalgic for me , our house have a big garden too and we have fruit trees, chikoo – guava – mangoe and leechee’s , Papita’s my father and grand dad were very keen on gardening.. and as you say if anyone stole a fruit my grand ma would get angry … yes the ripening ..

    and in our case it was not the chor who stole it was us lot stealing he he he

    brought so many memories , I so want to go homeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee …

    thank you so much for the nostalgia

      • yeah i can vouch for that.. this generation does not know what FUN is .. those hot sunny days and us lot trying to steal some leechies from the naeighbours house..
        or other times going to the ground and trying to get the jamuns before the gardner comes running with his big stick ..

        “WAit let me tell your father what you doing “.. this nad that

        FUN dayssssssssssss

  3. we lived in government flats through my growing years, but my nana’s house had a huge garden. There was shahtoot, guava, custard apple and so many other fruits and vegetables that grew there. What memories!

    So, mom must have called surely :)?

  4. What a beautiful memory! If it had been my Mom, she would have joined yours in the mourning. She is mad about mangoes as well.
    I loved how you wrote this post. So subtle, yet so sweet. πŸ™‚

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