I move restlessly from room to room,picking up forgotten bits of clothing,discarded on the chairs.
I wander along the corridor,hesitant as an intruder,peeking into the empty bedrooms.What am i
looking for?
I meander aimlessly through the kitchen,search the fridge for something that eludes me.Yes! i
retrace my steps.Tea! I make one and wipe away the tears trickling down.
That day in the morning ,our daughter had gone back to her college,after her holiday spree, was
over.The afternoon plods on and so do my racing thoughts.In the evening,sitting with my husband,
watching the colours changing,mulling,marvelling at the serenity,residue of a commotion,it struck
how the clock never stops.Ticking and pricking away.
My daughter,a delightful,responsible, young girl now,was a chubby and playful child.The transition
being full of all the ups-downs,tantrums-rebuttals,fighting and making up,childish banter to teenage
outrage-bottom line being growing up with love The journey has been full of surprises,pleasures as well stupendous shocks.My role as a care giver,peace maker-chauffeur-cook and everything in between,
along with being mom,has been a roller coaster ride.
At 13,our son can drive,argue with infinite wisdom(acquired at the threshold of teens) which should be
the vice-verse,and has a pathetic ~yes-no~ response to any query-explanation being a wastage of words.
He never hears what is said to him because of the permanently attached headphones,finds everyone vague
but isn’t sure why.
Left to their own devices,these two siblings can talk,fight,discuss,till eternity and not be bothered.Scrabble,
discovery channel or any entertainment,is unfailingly absorbing to my controlled hysteria,snapping to look for order in day to day activities.They would arrive home late in the afternoon,ravenous,and stuff themselves with whatever took the lesser time to transfer from fridge to plate.To avoid their stuffing,kitchen was a constant
flurry of activity,churning out politically correct meals.Perils of non organic or junk foods ,not withstanding.
Arguments over the favourites,necessitated the veto power to be exercised.Study hours punctuated in would be brain storming,as long as one listened to their volley,any explanation being misunderstood transmission.
The extra classes of various fields of interest stood to gain by their participation and not the other way round.
Yet,the colourings have imprinted the hue,on their young impressionable minds,plowing,cultivating and producing hopefully,sensible individuals. Parenthood is a tour De force,if pulled naturally and selflessly.
