Maa

It's that time of the day when the next episode of your favorite sitcom comes up on air. And throughout the day you have wondered whether the best friends will finally confess their love for each other or not. Or, it's the final day of the tournament with India clashing against Pakistan and you've chewed off all your nails thinking about the slog overs. It's time, finally ! And you make your way towards the television set when suddenly you hear a voice behind saying in rather a strict tone, "What are you doing with that remote in hand? Have you forgotten about your math exam tomorrow? Go back at once at sit down with your books. You can watch TV later." And that seals your fate for the evening. All the questions about the childhood lovers goes unanswered and all your mind does is to wonder about run rates ! Trigonometry takes a backseat.

A month ‘n’ a half later you again chew up your finger nails. This time for yourself! Tomorrow morning you’ve to submit your report card and your Dad has refused to sign it in a tone which defied any kind of requests, persuasions or even begging. The school bus will be here any minute and you’re still at your wits ends. Then she comes in and in a very indifferent tone asks for your report card. You hastily hand over, not wanting to lose even one precious second. An annoyed look, once more, at your scores and a swift brisk signature at the end. And all your troubles for sometime is over. Phewww ! What a relief !
She saves you. Once again !

It’s your birthday. You wake up with the familiar and oh-so-delicious aroma of your favorite dessert in the air. You take in lungs full of that wonderful aromatic air. The day has a good start ! You peek into the kitchen and see her sweating it out on your favorite dishes. She looks at you and smiles. Wishes you and tells you that she has made all your favorite meals. And suddenly you remember the treat that you’ve promised your friends. You will be eating out today and you’ve simply forgot to tell her this. But then again, your mind starts working on blue-prints of the ‘damage control’ plan. You promise her that, even if you’re eating out for lunch, you’ll surely be home for dinner. After all, she had been toiling all morning just to make your day a li’l more special. The smile on her face clouds just for a second, or was it two? You’re not sure. But then the familiar smile comes back and she says it’s all right and asks you to enjoy your lunch.

You come back home. The day had been great. No, it was rocking ! You had a sumptuous lunch with your friends. And then you all went to a movie. In the evening pub-hopping and finally ended up the great day with a long drive to a drive-in Dhaba, where you all had your dinner. After a rejuvenating shower you hit the bed and look at the bed side watch. It’s 12.30am. With a satisfied smile you close your eyes and try doze off. When somewhere between the land of sense and slumber you realize the door opening noiselessly, someone was placing a glass of water on the bed side table and putting a blanket over you. A soft palm caresses the few careless strands of hair on your forehead. Lingers there for a few seconds more and then as noiselessly as she came, she leaves. And suddenly you remember, you promised her that you will be home for dinner. She was still awake. Waiting for you. She also knew that you get thirsty in the middle of the night, so she remembered to place the glass of water on your table. She remembered. But did you?

You are a busy bee. You have your school/college/work. You race 24/7 pursuing your studies, your degrees and your career. You leave your home in the morning; get back at sunset or even later. After a quick snack, either you perch yourself infront of the computer or infront of the television. Eat your dinner and then some more browsing. Then go off to sleep. Sundays are meant for friends. For enjoyment. C’mon that’s the only day you get for yourself ! And in the midst of all these, you don’t even remember when was the last time you spoke with her for a flat five minutes. You don’t even bother. Who has time? Right ?

One morning a few days back, as you were grazing the paper, your eyes come to standstill when it read a particular news. It was on the 5th page.. or was it the 7th? You can’t tell now. It was just a few lines but it shook your core. It said that a middle-aged woman has committed suicide. Reason? Depression and acute loneliness. None of her family members had time for her, the paper said. After giving her all to her family for all these years, now in the twilight zone of her life, she didn’t have anything left for herself to fall back on. It was just another piece of news which will blend into oblivion for the rest of the world. But for you, it shook yours. You turn and look at woman who is sewing back the button on your shirt, painfully squinting through her glasses. And suddenly you feel like putting your arms around her. You just feel so glad !

These ladies have various names.
We call them Maman, Màna, Madre, Mater, Matri, Mama, Morsa, Maica, Mutter, Mor, Majka…

We also call them, Maa.