When I went to my room, I could hear my mother calling me ‘pezha’ over and over in my head. I couldn’t understand how my mother could call me that name, when I have done nothing wrong. How can I be a pezha just because I got a letter from an old sunday school friend? It was obvious that my mother hated me. It is ok for her to go ‘just over there’ every other day, it is ok for Maria to be with my psycho uncle, but it isn’t ok for me to receive a letter from a friend.
I wanted to be able to hate my mother like the way Maria hates her. But I just couldn’t do it. I was afraid that, if I treated my mother badly, my future children will also treat me badly. I was afraid that, what goes around will come around. I didn’t want my kids to do to me what Maria is doing to my mother.
I thought about John Daniel. I hated him for what he did to me. Why did he have to write my dear queen. It is because of him, I got in to all these troubles. I took the piece of paper with his address written on it and I tore it in to tiny pieces, that even Amma won’t be able to glue it back together. I don’t need friends who bring unnecessary troubles.
Why do I get in to all these troubles? I had no idea. I didn’t bother to get up and eat dinner. When my stomach started to growl, I remembered my father and how he used to make us eat our dinner, so our athmavu(soul) won’t curse us in the night. I wished he would come home. He is all I had.
When I woke up in the morning, Amma was sitting at the dining table and reading the paper. The letter she tore and threw was still on the floor. I knew Amma was waiting for me to pick up the pieces.’Woman, You are not going to get the satisfaction of seeing me sorting through the torn pieces of paper and read the letter. I won’t die just because I didn’t read the letter’. Suddenly I realized, I am becoming Maria, I called Amma ‘woman’. I actually enjoyed the feeling of calling my mother ‘woman’ instead of the traditional respectful’ Amma'(albiet silently). I felt there is nothing worng in calling her ‘ woman’. After all she is a woman. I wondered what her reaction would be, if she knew what I am thinking. She would be hurt for sure. But she is the one who started this name calling business, so it is only fair that, she too gets a nice name.
I knew before Amma went to work, she would have taken a mental photos of the torn papers on the floor. She desperately needed the satisfaction of making me suffer. I felt two can play the same game. I avoided walking anywhere near the letter. I didn’t even bother to sweep the room.
In the evening I waited for Amma to come home. I made myself a nice cup of coffee and I sat at the dining table waiting in anticipation. When I heard the living room door open, I quickly grabbed the news paper and pretended to read. I could hear Amma’s footsteps coming closer and closer. My heart was beating so fast, I thought it would pop out of my chest. When Amma reached the dining room, I lifted my head casually and looked at her. I saw her gaze moving from the letter on the floor to me. My heart leapt with joy. I beat my mother in her own game. I took the coffee from the table and walked to my room. As I passed her I spoke silently” make your own coffee, woman!”
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Oh a transformation in Nina
Wow! Way to go Nina. You did it girl.
OMG, That is a major change in you…
“Ala muttiyaal, cherayum kadikkum”
Ennirunnalum, vishappallillallo…!!
If some boy went through this he would have ran away from home or become an absolute rebel or even prehaps a delinquent criminal..
thank God there was no boy in the house though u wud have loved the comfort of a brother.
displaced_mallu
hehe.. nice mna!
Nina, I like to read your reminiscings. Can’t identify with anything though as my own cildhood was different. But I LOVE your recipes. Methinks it is time to add a few more of Ammachy’s “naadan” recipes.
how sad..
I think ur mother took u for granted.She knew that u will never hurt her no matter what she does.
B/w I like ur writing style.
You did have the last laugh.It takes great courage to overcome love and fear
Sure, your mother’s attitude could have made you like her. You too were behaving like her, getting pleasure from her sadness or her discouragement.
you can be like this only for a day sarah, u would have become yourself the very next day. i am sure about that. u are too good at heart.
-jay
Your mother has been through a lot, so may be a little more understanding towards her may have helped. Anyway you were too young yourself when all these were going on.
Your mothers love destroyed Maria, her hatred towards you made you a stronger and better person. They say it takes a baptism of fire to make sand into glass. Lesson I learnt today: Sometimes we have to count misfortunes among our blessings.
Thanu: It didn’t last
Anon: Nah.. it was all smoke and no fire
Shankari: I know
Madhavankutty: I could have been nastier if I wanted..but unlike Maria, I always thought of the consequences. I would never destroy family photos, as I know it can never be replaced..But I wanted to fight the battles..I just couldn’t. I just couldn’t fight..
Displaced: true
Sujit: nah
Anon: Sure
Anon: Amma knew that I would never hurt her.. that is why she wrote to me 5 years ago, that she instructed my sisters not to let me know when she dies!.. she knew very well how to hurt me, and knew also that I would keep forgiving her..
Maya: I agree..
Alex: What goes around comes around
Choomma: What about me?
Silverine: There is so much of truth in what you said..
I dont know why all ammas like this. But the big problem is that neither we nor them can’t stand the anger for longer. Try calling amma, sthree for 2 days and the third day you can’t stand that (they can’t also) 🙂 I loved to walk through your thoughts. Interesting blog.