The thing with photographic memory is the ability to recreate the past events perfectly..
Each time I miss my mother or my sisters, I can look back in to the past and see them in a particular event.
The last few days I have been missing my mother a lot..The fact that she will be 73 soon is freaking me out.
A part of wants to go back home, stay with her and spend every moment of my life with her. Because I know she crossed the statistical average life span of an Indian woman almost a decade ago.
There is so much I want to tell her and so little time..
The year was 1989.
I wasn’t home for her Birthday. I did send her a card.
But I was home a few days after my birthday.
I was sitting in the veranda helping my sister to do her home work,( edited: nah,not home work.. she was studying for the final exam( last minute!!!) and was bugging me to help her study) while trying to read the juicy details of Pamela Bordes and the Libyan connection in the newspaper.
Amma came back home around 5.30 pm.
She wore a blue saree with white flowers ( The ‘April 18th’ saree, her favourite) with a horrible cream colour blouse that didn’t match at all. I remember asking her
“When will you ever learn to wear decent clothes, at least a matching blouse?”
I was honestly ashamed to have a mother who couldn’t even wear a matching blouse.
She looked at me and asked
“When will you remember that I have four daughters and I have to pay dowry for all of you?”
I proclaimed loudly that “I will not marry a guy who asks for dowry!!”
She just shook her head.
I was annoyed with her for not believing me.
Then she opened her handbag..the Gulf handbag..made of leather with pictures of birds on it..(it was a bag that informed others about your Gulf connection) and took out a paper bag.
The bag already had oil stains on it.
She passed the paper bag to me
I remember asking her “What is it ma?”
“Your favourite” And then she smiled. The most beautiful smile.
There were about 14 to 15 biscuits inside.. Yellow flower shaped biscuits with jam in the center..