Moments

The smell, which I have identified with a sense of safety, support, care, relief and of love since I was born, preceded her as she entered the car. The smell, that has been around me for almost 80% of my lifetime, that of all things is there when I need it the most, that has favored me when everyone else opposed and that had supported me in my most trying times filled the car with a warm fragrance of Fair & Lovely.

“You’ve got to wear seat belt mom”, I said as I started the car.

“It isn’t Delhi. Besides, it chokes me up. Don’t you get tired? You have driven all the way from Agra and now you want to go shopping”, she said and adjusted the seat backward.

“I am not tired”, I replied laconically and immediately switched the folder to Hindi songs before she could raise any objection.

I applied brakes instinctively when a bicycle crossed the street ignoring the traffic. “See? That’s why I ask you to wear seat belt and keep your feet down. I can’t slow down any more gradually then this”, I cajoled her into wearing the belt using this old trick and continued. “What’s on the menu today?”

“Aalu baingan (Eggplant)”, she replied in her natural riant disposition.

“Isn’t that…”, I tried to complete my sentence.

“Yeah yeah I know Baingan = be (without) + gun (characteristic)”, she recited the fact as I have told her at every chance I got to flaunt my little knowledge about vegetables gained from my last relationship.

A natural tear appeared as I yawned while singing along with the front speakers of my car. “Aawaz main na dunga… chaahunga main tujhe…saanjh sawere… ”, I continued singing but stopped when I noticed Mom wiping tears off her eyes, looking away.

“What happened?” I asked, worried.

“Change the song. Why do you play this song?” she replied and tossed over a hiccough.

“The tune is catchy. But why? What happened?”

“Same as what happened to you”, she replied…smiling off her embarrassment away caused by being caught crying.

Still unable to comprehend the reason, I thought, “May be she was missing Dad who has recently been transferred to another location and is able to come home on weekends only. So I tried to give her a positive contrast as compared to my situation in order to console her and said …At least you can call Dad whenever you want, I can’t even call her”

“No, It’s not your dad”, she said solemnly and then continued “Why were you crying while that song played? You are still not Ok, are you?” Her eyes grew wet again as she completed the question, as if she already knew the answer and cried in its anticipation.

“What? No, I wasn’t crying. I am ok now.” I knew that she heard me but those words were discarded by her instantly as untrue. I felt a deep sinking feeling in my stomach out of horror at the acknowledgment that my efforts to show her that I am fine have been futile. Her nod indicated clearly that she didn’t want to discuss it any further and also that she desperately needed a reason that could assure her that I have moved on. A smothering silence prevailed for a noticeably long period. I wanted to break the silence but I suddenly had nothing to say.

“Is that what made you cry mom”, I thought to myself… “A mere hint that I might still be hurting myself because of how my love story ended. I have already damned myself enough for sharing that pain with you. What a fool I have been to think that you have dropped that incident out of your mind and that you too have moved on along with my pretense.”

“You know, if that makes you feel any better, I used to miss Sonu and not her whenever I heard that song”, I finally broke the silence as we crossed Sonu’s home and she burst into laughter again.

I may not know how to defy her, but I do know how to make her laugh.