A mother
cracks the formula to set the equation right with her CAT bound son.
Hemalatha woke up determined to put the trauma of the past
few days behind. She walked into the kitchen and started busying herself with
household chores. The soulful strains of Yo Yo Honey Singh from the radio
immediately put her at ease. Humming to herself she was about to take a sip of
her favorite paati-made filter coffee when she heard the dreaded voice.
Hemalatha froze and by some strange coincidence so did Honey Singh. From above
the static of the radio she heard Mukund approaching.
Her 20-year old son came and plonked himself opposite her.
“A fairly innocuous day, isn’t it?” he asked pointedly. Hemlatha kept looking
at her coffee which suddenly had lost taste. “Hmmmm,” was all she could mumble.
“But soon the day’s mien will change with the cacophony of sounds.” Hema could
not take it any longer. Thankfully, his mobile rang and off went her tormentor.
Later in the day, Hema could not but help think of that one
act that had led to this tragic state of affairs. Mukund’s CAT entrance was
coming closer. And Hema was a worried mom. This was not an exam to be taken
lightly but her son’s attitude was as carefree as ever. To make matters worse,
Keshav, her husband was away on an offsite. She had told her son in no
uncertain terms that his preparation left a lot to be desired. “Take it to the
next level,” said the poor unsuspecting mother. And by some strange twist of
fate, her son who had mastered the art of not listening to her, agreed.
The next day onwards, Mukund started talking differently.
Hema knew it was English, and yet the words he used were like the bouncers
those good looking bowlers at the IPL bowled. It was as if her son had decided
to live the rest of his life in the middle of a Shakespearean play. And to
think, she had pushed him into it!
As Hema went on surfing lost in her thoughts, something
caught her eye. There in the corner, was an ad for Kindle. A hand-held electronic
device that could well hold the answers to her troubles. It was worth trying
anyway. Hema went ahead and booked it from Amazon. The next day her bundle of
joy arrived. Mastering the gadget, was surprisingly much easier than some of the
phones she had heard her husband and son discussing. And soon enough, she was using
the gadget like a pro. A few days passed by as Hema got completely caught up
with a whole new world of books.
The dawning sun again set the stage for the battle of wits between
mother and son. But this time Hema was ready. As she stood in the kitchen,
making perfect slices of the onion and with Honey Singh for strength, her
tormentor arrived.
Mukund: “Why are you spoiling the day’s demeanour with such
ludicrous music?”
Hema: “I think day’s harmony will be a better fit for what
you want to convey Mukund. And try jarring or dissonant.”
Complete silence.
Mother: 1 Son: 0
Hema had often seen ads on TV where Tendulkar or now that
boy who always abuses would hit a six and then lift their hands to a stadium
ringing with applause. Forget the cricketers, right now it was Mrs Hema K with
her hands raised. She could even hear the commentators going overboard about
her.
Mukund: “So is my lunch an amalgamation of convenience food?”
Hema: “No it is an assortment of nourishments.”
As she gave Mukund his lunch, she knew the equation had
changed. The victory had been swift, and
complete. Almost brutal. He gave her a hug, “love you mum.” And then he asked, his eyes
squinting in self-doubt like the small boy who had looked up to her for
everything, “Or is there a better way of saying it?” She hugged him tight and
said, “No, that’s just perfect!”
Kindle
Reading should never stop
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