Wednesday, May 1, 2019

The time machine


Context: In December 2014, I was visiting my grandparents and extended family in Delhi. On the evening of Dec 18, I was at my Nanna and Pappa's house. We were all getting ready to go out for dinner, when my Pappa suddenly collapsed. It was his first and his last heart attack. I was six years old and I was in the room. My mother had (I think still has) a very hard time dealing with Pappa's death. She recently told me that she fought very hard with God to give her an explanation for why He didn't save her dad.

This story captures the essence of the dream that Mom got as an explanation to her why.

I miss you Pappa. 

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The wind swooshed through the room, picking up the curtains that had been yanked to the ground and trashing them against the wall. No one cared to close the windows, as a catastrophe had struck the family. Dark clouds hovered in the night sky, spreading their contagious gloom. The floor was covered with books with torn, wet, and crumpled pages. Leaves were whirling in a mix of colors. The storm raged on, leaving the room cold. It went for the girl curled up in the corner of the room, Leah, crying into the darkness.  

Leah’s howls drowned the storm’s brutal roaring. Tears streamed down from Leah’s luminous eyes, shimmering in the moonlight. Her large hazel eyes had turned a bloodshot red and her nose was red as a tomato. She decided to take a walk, but it took her an enormous effort just to get up and put on her jacket. As she walked through the kitchen, she saw her father sobbing silently.

“We can talk about your mother’s death if you want,” he quietly offered.

“I’m going for a walk,” she said, slamming the door behind her. The freezing night’s air stung her face. Leah heard birds cawing and insects chirping frantically. As Leah sniffed the petrichor, she turned into a dark alley. She looked ahead and saw a faint, glowing light. Abound with curiosity, she cautiously walked towards it and saw a round, enormous object. Scared but full of anxiety, she stepped into it.

She found herself in a large room with a desk at the room’s front, covered with computers and buttons. On the center of the desk was a time machine owner’s manual. After reading it, she saw a button, “Change any event you want. Enter a date and specific time.” Feeling apprehensive, Leah pressed the button and typed in a date and time two hours before her mother’s death. The time machine abruptly started whirring and then thumped on the ground.
The machine’s doors opened. Leah stepped out and quickly darted behind a tree as she couldn’t be seen during time travel. She was standing in front of her house. Vigilant and circumspect, Leah dashed inside and tippy-toed to her mother’s room. Leah waited for her mother to leave the room, because she knew what was going to happen next.  She sprang to the phone to dial 911. Leah’s biggest regret was that she hadn’t dialed 911 earlier.
“Hello,” Leah said frantically. “My mother is having a heart attack.”
“We’re on our way,” the operator replied. Leah hid inside a cabinet. She heard her mother’s footsteps coming back into the room and suddenly heard her collapse on the bed. Her father rushed towards his wife.
“I’m feeling a pounding pressure in my chest and left arm. I’m really lightheaded,” Leah’s mother moaned to her father. The doorbell rang. As Leah’s father opened the door, the paramedics barged into the room and asked everyone to leave. Leah kept hiding inside the closet. After what seemed like eons, Leah heard a nurse announce that they’d be taking her mother to the hospital.
Leah returned to the time machine and pressed the “Present” button. She couldn’t wait! She walked towards her house with butterflies in her stomach. Leah unlocked the door and saw her mother sitting on the dining table. But something didn’t seem right.
Leah’s mother was in a wheelchair. She was covered with wires and tubes. Leah could feel her stomach churning inside out at the sight of her mother. It was Leah’s birthday and her father had bought her a small cake. It wasn’t the grand, scrumptious birthday cake that her mother always baked. As Leah blew the candle, her father sang “Happy Birthday” for her. Leah’s mother could only make some grunting noises as she had also lost her speech along with her mobility. Leah desperately wanted her mother to hug her tightly and kiss her on the forehead, but there was her mother—motionless, with her head dropping to her shoulders, her eyes staring into nothingness, and her lips quivering with silent words. The next few days only got worse. As Leah watched her mother, she grew possessed with memories of their fun times together. Leah could no longer sit in her mother’s lap so that she could stroke Leah’s hair. They both couldn’t even talk or crack jokes together!
Leah tried to fight the truth inside her. Deep inside, she knew her mother was better off in a different world where she wouldn’t have to suffer. It became increasingly painful for Leah to see her mother in a vegetative state. Leah decided it was time to let go of her mother and of the tiny shards of hope she was hanging on to. Slowly, Leah pushed her mother’s wheelchair into the time machine. She kissed her mother a last goodbye and hugged her for a long time, wishing to feel her mother’s arms around her one last time.
“Goodbye, Ma,” she whispered hoarsely. Leah reached out to the “Set Back to Normal” button. She took one last look at her mother, gathered all her courage, and pressed the button with trembling fingers. The time machine whirred and Leah was left alone.
That night Leah sobbed harder than she ever had before. Her mother was now gone forever. But Leah had made peace. She knew her mother was in Heaven, not suffering or going through any pain.
The night lapped up Leah like her mother’s arms and put her to a deep sleep.

Tuesday, April 16, 2019

Similarities between my mom and me

My mom often goes out with her friends after giving us dinner or putting us to bed. For many years now, I started a tradition to put a goodnight note by her bedside for her to read when she comes back. Mom says she has a very hard getting up the next morning, because my notes put her in a very deep and sound sleep.

Sharing this note because my mom says it's the best one of all!

Similarities between my mom and me:

  • Lefties
  • Take aloo out of samosas
  • Top of the class
  • Life of the party
  • Love Arijit Singh
  • Love songs with a tabla
  • Love cooking for others
Which similarity do you like the most about us? 💕


Friday, January 4, 2019

Parenting in Indian culture

Disclaimer: This is a roast. Don't take everything to heart!

I love my parents. Though sometimes they can act really cringy. I mean, if I have to hang out with a friend, my parents will first make sure that my friend lives in a safe environment. Then they’ll go through a thorough investigative questionnaire to do a background check. They will ask questions like, where do you go to school, where do you live, where do your parents work, how many friends do you have, who all live with you at home, what all extracurricular activities do you do, how many A+’ do you have, what is your grade point average. At that point, my brother and I are squirming knowing this may be the last we see of that friend!

Grades

Don't even get me started on Indian parents and their obsession with grades! The other day I got 99.5 on my logic test. My mom immediately asked me, “Who all got a 100?” When I said, just one more kid, she snapped at me and said, “No one remembers that Buzz Aldrin was the second man to step on the moon. The world only remembers Neil Armstrong.” When I argued it was just half a point, she said, “it was just nine minutes later for Aldrin too.”


Oh, and one day when I got a hundred, my mom said, “I’d like you to go ask your teacher if there is room for extra-credits.” Seriously, mom?

Indian parents grade system is, A is Average, B is Bad, C is Chappal (slipper) on the face, D is Don't come home and F is Find a new family.

Food

Indian parents are obsessed about food, especially homemade food. My mom thinks the world comes to end on the days we have to take a hot lunch. She will go on a spiel about how she doesn’t know if the food has been cooked properly, if it’s frozen, if it’s stale, what’s its nutritional value. For God's sake, she even packs us lunch for field trips! Let me tell you a secret. She used to pack food even for plane rides. My brother and I came up with a plan on how to dodge that, so after her food went waste a few times, she stopped it. Now, don’t get me wrong. We eat out a lot. And, we also get our share of fries, shakes, burgers, pizza, and so on. But, still.

Oh, and one time, I saw her packing yellow lentils and spinach rotis to take for a friend in the hospital. Why would someone want to eat yellow dal and green roti when they are already sick? Yikes!

Comparisons

They always compare you with other children. No matter what you do, they always have a list of people/things to compare you against. For example, last weekend, I woke up late and asked my mom to make breakfast for me. I got a 20 minute lecture on how one of our family friends's son randomly decided to make breakfast just that morning and how fancy it was. And how many kids in our age group (barely 10 and under) make their own breakfast even on school days and manage their time with utmost panache. I’m sorry that I got hungry and even asked for breakfast!

Meditation

Indian parents treat meditation as the biggest medication. My dad thinks he will become a saint with his daily practice. Uh uh! Wonder where all his practice goes when I don’t finish Kumon on time. I wish someone could remind him in that moment the difference between being mindful and mind full!

Their childhood vs. our childhood

If my dad is driving us to school and the traffic is bad, he starts whining. “You know I used to manage my own time. I didn’t have the luxury of your daadu or dadi driving us back and forth to school. For my extracurricular class, I used to bike six miles and we didn’t even have a phone. We were just responsible.” OK, Dad! I don’t live close to my school. It takes us 20 minutes in a car. Should I start walking on the freeway at 6 in the morning?

Other kids vs. us

Indian parents put on their best behavior in front of other kids. If my parents take a bunch of our friends out and the kids ask if they can have something, their response will be, "Of course sweetie!" If we ask for something when it's just the four of us, the conversation goes either one of two ways. “If you want that, you have to earn it. I need you to unload the dishwasher and fold your laundry and make your breakfast for x number of days. Then I’ll think about it.” If it's something sugary, then they’ll say, “You have to run three miles this weekend before I take you to Baskin Robbins. Or do four days of consecutive swimming.” After all that I neither want the thing or the ice cream because I will NOT do the work or the workout. I will just ask my Mamu.

Future

My parents once asked a two year old what she wants to be when she grows up. She was not even potty-trained at that time! If we don’t answer questions about our future properly, they tell us that we will spend our life taking orders at a fast food drive thru.

Gossip

In our house, we have a board for family rules and one of the rules is, “Make time for gup-shup.” I swear my mom doesn’t let us sleep if we don’t gossip at the dinner table or before going to bed. But, if we gossip the way she does with her friends, then we get a scolding. “Oh, that is not a nice thing to say. You should never judge others. I have a three strike rule if you say that again. You are being a bucket dipper.” But, I recently heard her gossiping about someone’s dress with my grandma. Looks like my grandma doesn’t have a three strike rule for mom.

In conclusion, Indian parents are just depressing. But, I love my parents even though I can’t change anything about them.