You cannot bury me!


 The tiffin needs to be made. Ohh, the freeze doesn't show enough stock of greens. How many times I have haunted and taunted this girl to buy fresh palak and mint everyday! She just doesn't seem to understand the value of good, fresh food. Poor soul, what can she too do? Burried under so much of responsibilities. Let me do the grocery shopping. 

Ramu... Ramu... This Kanpur Royal just doesn't listen to me. Who is the authority over whom, I fail to understand. Half the time this Alice is lost in his wonderland. Bless the buffaloo like chewing of Ranjnigandha... Gadha kahi ka... Good for nothing fellow. Ramu... Ramu... If you don't answer now, I will bury you alive in the courtyard and beautiful rajnigandhas will grow on it. I'm shrieking  like an inhumane siren yet this mortal doesn't seem to hear me. Forget it, I will do the needful. 

Hay Allah... Look how the tap is flowing!!! My Ganga rituals are yet pending. That doesn't mean they have to be done today. Who has kept this tap running? Arghh.... It must be my naughty munchkins. But children must not be left like this unattended. When will Asem and Shabana realise this? Look at me, am I not hovering over their heads even today? 

Tap closed. Ahaaa... The bathroom smells delicious. New body wash, chocolate flavour. Hmmmm... It seems they are preparing for my third grandchild. Good, good, good.. At least I get to venture around more. Silly me, half my bones have rotten in the grave still the habit of daydreaming about more grandchildren just doesn't seem to die. 

Oh, its half past nine. The tiffins!! God gracious, the deep buried grey cells are giving away like the surface grey hair. How I keep forgetting! Haassshh! Shabana has already packed the kids off to school. Look, she has left her coffee unattended. Cold coffees are a craze these days. Let me just warm it in the microwave. Beep, beep,  beep... "Arey baba, I'm coming to get your luggage out, don't beep your lungs out like this." Gadgets however friendly, just annoy my arthritic bones. 

Now let me unwind myself with Fluffy and Rafi; one the company of my solitude -other the rhythm of my silent heart. 

Tum bin jau kaha... Tum bin..hmmm... Lalaala... Such a melody, evokes the dead from the burried coffin. Tum bin... Lalala.. Hmm.. Hmmm

*  *  *  *  *  * 

The house has errie silence. Rajnigandhas make their presence felt. The sandalwood essence sticks compete with the dhoop in desire of getting noticed. Children are dressed in simple, white, traditional clothes. The TV is admonished for the hour. Aseem and Shabanam have their eyes glued to the entrance. Panditji's entry, soothens their anxious nerves. 

"Hmm... It is the effect of a saya, creating havoc in your life." Panditji refers to his scriptures, studying some absurd corners of the house. 

"Begum Nushrat Ali Khan uff Nalini Sharma's soul has not found peace. PAAP GHOR PAAP... You have offended a Hindu woman by burying her in a Muslim graveyard. You need to do a yagna for salvation of her soul." Panditji offers solution to the untimely beeping of microwave, incessant barking of Fluffy and if this was not enough, Tum Bin Jau Kaha... Being sung by the old tape recorder. 

*  *  *  *  *  *

Foolish people, they think I will go like this. Areyyyy.. A mother is a mother, dead or alive, burnt or buried, she will continue to love, bother, pester her children even in the other world.  Rest and peace, are emphemeral entities for her. She buries her own world to see her children blossom. She buries her own identity to grow a personality. She buries her tears to showcase an eternal smile. You may burn or bury her perishable body but never her immortal love and longing for her children. 

What they don't understand is, Tum Bin Jau Kaha.. 

Comments

  1. Certainly mothers sacrifice for their offsprings! You have vividly shown deep attachments can continue in the nether world too! Brilliant narration!

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  2. Brrrrrr!!!
    It is deadly cold in your story land.
    Beautifully penned ’out of this world story’ Loved your fast moving hectic narration of the mothers activity. Good that you are submitting every week or else all at DYWT will be saying -- ’Tum Bin Jau Kaha.. ’

    ReplyDelete

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