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.

No Less of a Man

Last night I was watching a movie called, Boys Don't Cry. For the second time. Last watched it when I was just fresh out of college, quite a few years back. I was fascinated then by the histrionic skills of the leading lady and the message lying beneath the scenes and the script. I was fascinated even now, but this time for a different set of realizations which the later years and experience helped me to realize.

Last night I also witnessed the pain, the suffering, the longing and the tears of a friend of mine. My friend was in the lowest of spirits, completely broken by the sadism of life and love. There comes a time in everyone's life when one reaches out to anything or anyone.. a straw or a hand or a shoulder.. just to hang on tight in order not to be swept away by the merciless torrents of life's' 'fun'. One just needs someone who will only listen 'coz all one needs at that time is to flush out the toxins of the heart. Last night, I saw my friend breaking down; the tears came like a heavy torrent after a long drought. And my friend is a man.

Many a times I've been asked, "Is it wrong for a man to cry? Why do they say that boys don't cry.. can't cry? Isn't a man as much a human being as a woman? Doesn't a man suffer as much as a woman?" They do. And much much more.

Blame it on the mind set or the folklore taboos, but even before a boy has gone through his first five years of his life, he has been told, taught and instructed to behave like a 'man'. And how does a 'man' behave??? Different schools, different syllabus. But the most common notion amongst the litter is probably this - 'Manliness' is synonymous to virility, to strength, to stoicism. They should be seemingly indifferent to or unaffected by joy, grief, pleasure or pain. "Seemingly" is a verrrryyyy interesting word. Isn't it?

Life has her own favourite satires. And one of them being, men should be abominable to tears. And as ironical as it may sound, but for men it is a double bladed knife. Hold it in anyway you want, at the end of the day, you're bound to bleed. While women have the 'birth' right to cascade their tears at any given opportunity 'coz sentiments and emotions are supposed to be a 'feminine' thing, men on the other hand, are supposed to be epitome of restrain. He's supposed to be like an Adonis who won't flinch at a Herculean task.

What people forget is, this species called 'men' also has the same blood flowing through their vein and their hearts too are similar to that of the 'privileged' class (atleast in the matters of expression) called 'women'. Like women, they too bleed and their lacrimal or their tear glands secrete tears when hurt. They too suffer the same pain and angst. Maybe, attimes much more. 'Coz they are forbidden to show that they suffer.. 'coz they are forbidden to shed those tears which they painfully blink away.

Hopefully, in the distant future, a time will come when he will show that he too is capable of expressing and the society will accept that a man is equally vulnerable, if not more, despite his magnetic charisma, his reticence and drop dead animal charm.

Hopefully, in the distant future a day will come when a man will finally realise that there is nothing wrong in exploring the 'feminine' or the softer tones and hues of his character. While the women will realise that at certain junctures in life, if he too breaks down or sheds a few tears and needs a shoulder... it won't make him any less of a man.