CHICKEN SOUP FOR THE BROKEN BONE

A broken foot has its share of advantages.This I have realized in the past four weeks that I spent hobbling around the house, devouring whatever I could lay my hands on (both edible and readable), watching movies and serials (without any disturbance) and watching life as it unfolded all around. Suddenly, there seemed to be a whole lot of time on my hands – truly a luxury these days. With it opened other floodgates too- of thoughts, memories and perspectives.

The most important one being that S and M have been particularly attentive to me, doing chores in the house they would otherwise choose to ignore, despite their truly busy schedules. Suddenly, I realized that they can both survive pretty well without me. So, now, I can literally and figuratively put my feet up.

S has been prodding me for quite some time to write for the family blog since I have ‘all the time’ at my disposal.  I am reminded of Margaret Mitchell, who wrote Gone With the Wind, while being laid up at home, nurturing a broken ankle.Her husband, tired of carrying loads of books from the library, decided to get her a typewriter and asked her to write a book instead of just reading them. At that time Margaret Mitchell used to work as a columnist for the local newspaper.So she delved into all the history and tales of the Southern States that she had grown up on and also into her own personal experiences to weave the unforgettable tale of love, war and fate against the backdrop of the Civil War. One published novel in her short life of 48 years, written by chance, won her the Pulitzer and the National Book Awards. No schoolgirl in our time grew up without having swooned over the passionate love story of Rhett Butler and Scarlett O’Hara. Though, sadly, times have changed and books, especially novels, are passé. I could hardly think of anything to say when a colleague once remarked that her husband thought buying books, meaning fiction, for their son was a waste of money.

Anyway, I am digressing. Lesser mortal that I am, I choose the more mundane stuff that our days are made of. I choose to write on the boon and bane of our modern day- the cell phone.

Even though I am not much of a fan, I have to admit that it has truly kept me going all these days. From ordering the grocery and gifts to booking tickets, from banking to business, from paying bills, to renewing AMCs, from shopping to keeping in touch with the world at large, it has served me well. Without it, I would have been truly lame and useless.

I know the world has come a long way and this is one of technology’s greatest boons. From deals to discussion, recipes to revolutions, proposals to breakups, all are taking place through it, but somewhere are we missing that human touch?

While I sit in the balcony, and watch the kids come out in the evenings, I am really impressed by the new age mothers. They are truly upwardly mobile. A little one in the perambulator kept vying for the mother’s attention for a very long time, but the young lady was so engrossed in her chat on the phone that she chose to ignore all his attempts at cooing and crying. And it happened in a flash – she just missed seeing the little one take his first turn! It was only when this confused little thing sent out a loud squeal, unable to understand what had just happened to him or turn on his back once again, that the mother, who was pushing the pram, finally noticed. As was expected, all her ecstasy continued to pour into the phone and the tiny human remained caught in the throes of eternal perplexity- to turn or not to turn!

My attention now shifts to an SUV making its way out of the gate, at quite a speed, on to one of the busiest roads of Mumbai. At the wheels was one of my neighbour’s daughter-in-law, a small town fledgling metamorphosed into another of Mumbai’s ‘upstart crows’ (incidentally, poet and playwright Robert Greene, one of the university wits, had coined this to describe Shakespeare).When she had landed in this city she had her face covered in a foot long ‘ghunghat’ but was now maneuvering the steering with one hand while the other, kept her mobile affixed to her ear. A toddler was sitting in the seat next to her while another, slightly older, was bawling in the seat behind. I could recognize them from my balcony since this was a much familiar sight. The lady in question moved around in her four-wheel drive for the smallest of chores. I know that we women are often applauded for multi-tasking but this was multi-Herculean-tasking. At least for me, whose attempt at learning to drive in the streets of Delhi, ages ago, had ended in one of those incidents which still generate much laughter and mirth for the family, and finally led to the most laudable decision of never attempting to drive again. I could not but stand up from my chair now on my one-and-half legs to give the young lady a standing ovation. Brave New World!

I was reading in the newspapers a few days back that, not just the celebrities, ordinary women, too, were obsessed with their make-ups and touch ups just before delivery so that the first Instagram photos with their newborns would come just right. And if, God forbid, the light or angle failed to come right, there were endless tools at their disposal to glam them up! Though, old school that I am, I always feel the glow and beauty, which are instantly bestowed on a mother on holding that tiny little bundle for the first time in her arms, need no photo editing.

Recently, at the airport lounge, I had a long wait, sitting on my wheelchair, and while looking around I noticed that in the chairs facing me everyone was busy with one thing – their mobiles. No one was aware of who was sitting next to him or her. Even the newly married couple- the mehendi and ‘chooda’ were a giveaway- had their noses buried into their respective phones. I wondered if the day is not too far away when couples in long distance relationships will say their ‘I DOs’ on mobiles too and, may be, an App for the ‘Saat-Pheras’ would save all a lot of trouble.I turned my glance in another direction and noticed that a toddler was sitting on the floor playing with a smartphone while her parents were engrossed in checking out merchandise at one of the airport shops. The lady sitting next to me, seeing the expression on my face, commented that even her grandson, nearing three, had not yet uttered his first words, but could switch on every remote and loved playing games on the mobile. I must say, I am impressed !

As I was wondering where the world would finally come to, in walked a woman in all her traditional attire. She was a village woman from Rajasthan- tall and well built with a large frame, head held high, wearing her traditional attire – ghagra-choli- odhni, her heavy silver/ white metal jewellery complete with bangles upto the arms, anklets, borla (maang-tika), bichhuwa (toe-rings). Her hands and feet were large and rough, which gave away that she was accustomed to hard labour. She had the traditional camel leather jootis or mojaris on her feet. Completely oblivious to all that was going on around her, she walked in almost regal majesty.She was the model of elegance and rusticity moulded into one. She was accompanied by her techie son, the laptop bag carried by him had the Tech company’s name embossed on it. Yes, mother and son were talking to each other for a change. You could make out it was the mother’s first trip by air- probably visiting the son’s place of posting for the first time. I wanted to take a picture of hers on my mobile. A voice within stopped me from clicking. 

The mother’s gentle smile on her care worn face and that look of pride in her eyes as she turned to talk to her son was like a breath of fresh air.  A while back I was feeling almost claustrophobic, but now I could breathe once again. It’s good to know some things do not change.

Surely no smiley of Emoji can ever beat that of a Mommyji. Happy Mother’s Day!

DS