Saturday 24 September 2016

Candid Diaries


“Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Mom, you and the Wi-Fi in India have so much in common! I’ve already finished unpacking my bags. And you are still stuck! We’ve spoken about this over and over again. Chill now, shall ya!”
“A never say die spirit, that’s the first lesson every mother learns, Meera.”
“Mom, I’m in Mumbai, not in Timbuktu! I’ve seen the city inside out through you, for years on end. I’ve spent an awful amount of time with aaji-ajoba in this city.”
“That was ages ago. This is different. Today, I feel like a stranger in my own city.”
Two months of sane discussions couldn’t bring about any change in the anxious tone of her mother’s voice.
“Mom, no melodrama! It is different for me, and that’s why it gives me the adrenaline rush. The hustle-bustle, the liveliness, there’s a current in the air here, (a wild one). Plus this opportunity to work with a global giant, it’s to die for.”
“Meera, Meera…”
“One more time, and you could set a Guinness Record for the world’s most anxious mom,” smirked the girl. “I’ve even agreed to your condition of renting out a room with your wacko distant relatives. You know I’d rather be on my own.”
“They are not wacko! Yeah, my cousin’s wife is a bit, what’s the word?”
“Sshh woman, she might be around! Anyway, I hope you haven’t forgotten my second condition,” reminded her mom.
“Daily updates on Whatsapp? You’d be getting those even if I slip into amnesia!”
A loud knock on the door dragged Meera back to reality, from the Big Apple to the matchbox abode in Mumbai she had taken shelter in.
“I’ve got to go Ma. See ya.”
“Meera didi, Aai says that you are too loud, too over-the-top, too forward, and a hindrance to my studies. And Baba should reconsider his decision,” said the 10 year old Aarav as he jumped on her bed.
Aarav and Meera had no siblings of their own and had taken an instant liking to each other.
“And what do you have to say?”
“You rock!” he chirped.
“So do you, little champ.” They sealed that thought with a hi-five.