Monday, April 12, 2010

memories from a champi

a friend (oops!!) of mine gave me a champi tonight. A champi is a head massage, wherin the giver treats the scalp of the getter with his/her fingers. Depending on the expertise,care,affection of the giver and the degree of frustration,loneliness,headache of the reciever, the champi varies.

the last champi i got was from my mom, before i came to this land of strangers..and so this evenings happenings reminded me of her. She, her love, her encompassing affection, came rushing back to my mind, with every passing moment. I have been close to mom ever since i can remember. when i was little kid, following her was the only job i had. People tell me the only time i would smile, or laugh would be when mom was around, holding me in her arms. Holding her saree, i would follow her everywhere she went. It had a peculiar smell, of flowers, or rather of the flower scented detergent she used, but i always associated that smell with her. She was my playmate, my secret keeper, my only friend during a time when i was the smallest kid in the colony. Her arms gave me all the comfort, her shoulders all the support i needed to grow up. She carried me all the way to school, and all the way back, hiding my scared face from the bullies for who i was an easy target, being the smallest kid around... She gave me all the love i needed, and then she gave me sone more...snuggling beside her at night is the best description of warmth i have ever experienced.

Then i grew up a little bit. Then a bit more. She was no longer my best friend. I no longer needed her support in everything. I was no longer a kid. i made new firends in a new school where no one bullied me. All i needed my mom to do was give me food, dress me up and send me to school, and feed me some more. I did not realise untill a few days back, that feeding and clothing are not as easy as they may sound. I started means of hiding test books and chocolate wrapers....but at the same time, when the light was off and the night was dark,when my mood was sombre and my spirits low, i searched for her. i still needed her approval for my mind to be at rest, still needed her smile to be happy, still needed her hug to make my day.Any problem, any rough day would be remedied by her look, however tired, her touch, however sweaty... i was no longer a kid, but i still not big enough...

then i continued to grow...and so did the secrets. now i was scared of mom finding out what i ws upto...but whatever i was upto were not all that scary..i just thought being with her all the time was not cool enough. she stopped me from doing a lot of things, and i detested it. She kept on resisting, i kept on detesting. Then a time came when all that we spoke was just what we needed to. there was a loss of flow of mindless conversation, heartfelt laughter, just mandatory salutations and the likes...my mom was going away from me, or rather i was pushing her and getting away myself... she never for once tried to pull me back or argue or protest...she let me go...as if she knew i was all hers and would come back....

and come back i did...when things went wrong, when marks went bad, when friends just went...i came back to her, and she was right there, her saree smelling just the same, her love undiminished, her hugs undiluted...and since then she has been my best friend. i have left her many a times, but this time i knew myself that she is the only one i have. that whatevr i do i will never be accountable to her, but i will never hide it from her nevertheless... it is she who taught me the magic of love, the satisfaction of giving more than recieving, the hope that good deeds never goes undone, the belief that if i am good, no matter what happens, i wil be rewarded...but all that apart, the best knowledge i learnt from her was to be simple and to be tolerant... simplicity was her forte. i all these years, i have never seen her unnecessarily adorning herself with anything more than ordinary, but she had always looked beautiful in my eyes... and to say that she has been tolerant is to say the very very least...

i dont know why i have not missed her still now, its been so long i have not seen her, so long i have not heared her say the nightly ritual that she and i have...maybe it is because i take her for granted,maybe because nothing has yet gone wrong here, maybe because when you know someone loves you, you tend to oversee their feelings,so much so that you an be rude without thinking, you can ignore wothout feeling guilty, you can retaliate without tension, you can be yourself without the fear of being misjudged...

but today, with a choking rush of feelings, i reached out for maa, as i call her, and i realised she was no longer in the next room, she wal miles and miles away, and to let her know that i missed her will only increase her never ceasing tensions for me... all i want her to know is that if ever there was a god for me, it is her, if ever i worship a deity, it is her image, if i ever hold on to anything, it is the cornr of her saree....for maa, when all would have failed me, i know i will see u standing, waiting for me to reach up to you... i am still a kid, still scared of bigger bullies in a badder world, but now for the world i have grown, and running to you seems like an easy option, but i wish i could do it, every turn, every problem, every night...

p.s: champu, thank you..its very rarely that i get what i do not expect.

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