This post won me my first blog recognition award with Blog Adda’s “Conversation with My mother Contest.”

And this is what I won 😀

What Mother’s Day means to a child, can only be fathomed truly by a Mom!


Tujhe sab hai pataaa…….meri maa”, as the poignant song played on the FM, it touched chords deep inside that I forgot existed. My weary eyes were moist with many a memory and slowly the floodgates opened, as the tears traced their salty path along my red cheeks. It was Mother’s Day and the careful selection of heart wrenching numbers played an ode to God’s most magnificent creation, only glorified second best by Bollywood. It was having the desired effect on my emotional equilibrium; I picked up the phone and dialed the all too familiar number. ‘English thumke, dil ki rhythm pe, Maare jamm jamm ke, Desi Boyz’, the caller tune rang blissfully, unaware of what I felt or what I was to say.


“Hello Maa, it’s me. How are you?” 

“All ok? How come you called?” 

“Nothing Maa, just thought we’d catch up. It’s been long…..” my voice trailed off 

“You broke? You need money?” she asked almost sternly. 

“No, no Maa, I’m fine”, my tone was that of a child who’d just been reprimanded.  “Just that it’s Mother’s Day so thought we could do a lunch together. Just the two of us, spend some quality time.” 

“And waste what I already cooked? Do you know chicken is 110 Rs a kg and Rajma is 80 Rs a kg?  You think money grows on trees? You couldn’t call earlier, I would not have cooked.” By suggesting wastage I had committed sacrilege and could not retrace my steps. 

“But they played that song now…..” I said aloud and then lived to regret it. 

“Huh? What song? Have you been drinking again?” She never stopped doubting me on that one and I have no clue why! 

“Noooooo Maa” I said, trying to change the topic, “Ok how about dinner then?” 

“The watchman just informed me that there won’t be any water supply for the next two days. So I need to stock up when he pumps in the water for today at about 7.30 pm. So dinner is definitely not happening. Can you believe the state of this city? Gone to the dogs I tell you”. 

“Accha, so how about a quick coffee then?” I said, trying very hard to accommodate myself in her social calendar.  

“Are you trying to kill me? You know my sugar levels have gone up. What has gotten into you?” She was about to get into her ACP Pradyuman ‘case solving skills’ mode when I intervened her thought process. 

“It’s Mother’s Day Maa!”  Now I was as exasperated as she was. This was just not going the way the FM RJ had intended. 

“Another Bank holiday? When do people work here? I needed to withdraw some money.” 

“No Maa, I said correcting her (and feeling so darn good about it) it is not a bank holiday and FYI, you can withdraw money from an ATM anytime.” 

“For my eyes? Nothing is wrong with my eyes” she said, stating matter of fact. “I don’t understand that plastic money business. How do you know you’ve spent something if you haven’t spent anything? That is the problem of this generation. You people want everything at the press of a button. Food, job, services, information, mother, life partner even children for Chrissake! If labour came with *conditions applied* in our times, the human race would not have lived to speculate on the world ending in 2012. Ok, I need to hang up now, my chicken is turning into coal and the rajma into porridge. Call me when I am not busy!” 


Image Courtesy :Google

“Happy Mother’s Day Mom! Thank God and YOU for making me Emotional Atyachaar proof.”



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