Caring but interfering, moms will be moms
Just think of mother and a myriad of emotions come to your mind — loving, caring and pampering. But try to read between the lines, you’ll find a few more qualities of the mother popup — overindulgent, interfering, nagging, sixth sense and snooping. Their sixth sense is so strong that in childhood, our mother could make out from a distance whether we were reading a novel or a textbook from the tone of our answer.
My two elder sisters opted for Sanskrit and history for their master’s degree, respectively. As I had done my BA honours in history, it was obvious I would go in for masters in that subject only. But no. How could I forget the mother who had some other plan in her mind? “Why to repeat the subject in the family when your sister has already done masters in history”.
This is how I landed in the department of English and here I am. Today, I can say in a filmy style that “Aaj main jo kuchh bhi hoon, apni maa ki wajah se hoon’ (whatever I am today is because of my mother). Our father was completely opposite. Whenever he used to visit our school, though it was rare, he would ask each one of us, “which class are you studying in?”
When we became mothers, everything about children’s education changed — different style, different course content and different teaching methods. But something that did not change was the mother, still the same overindulgent, over-worried and hyperactive. Right from the syllabus, teachers, their favourite students and tests to who got the highest marks, she would have all the information on her fingertips. She would press the panic button and put the whole family on toes when it came to making charts, science models or some fancy dress frills.
Then came the milestone nightmare of Class 12. In the college staffroom, the discussion would centre around the best tuition institutes in the town, whose child was going to which tutor and which are the best test papers. And every year during February and March, when the kids prepared for the board exams, the mothers would proceed on two-three weeks’ medical leave — the handy malady being backache. Every new session, we would count the names of all who would be having backache. I too was thrilled to have my turn for the backache, but my elder son refused to have me around. So disappointing for me!
This is how mothers earn a bad name, and gradually the kids start dreading this “love and care”. My sons would feel their holiday “wasted” if I too had my day off same day. Once when my sons were studying and I was hovering around the room, I heard them whispering. Perhaps they were talking about me and my interfering nature, because the moment I popped my head inside, they both gave a hearty laugh, and the younger one said: “Aa gayi Bandit Queen”.
RIGHT FROM SYLLABUS, TEACHERS, THEIR FAVOURITE STUDENTS AND TESTS TO WHO GOT THE HIGHEST MARKS, MOTHER WOULD HAVE ALL THE INFORMATION ON HER FINGERTIPS