Role reversal

My mom. I realised she was a little unlike other moms at a young age. For one, she isn’t a very domesticated woman. When I was in school, I used to be mad at her for not making the kind of pickles my friends’ moms made. She, unlike most mothers isn’t a fantastic cook. There are some things she cooks exceptionally well of course. But on the whole, she isn’t the kind who’s cooking is legendary. She never did any kind of embriodery work on my clothes either. I looked at my friends with envy when they would display their pretty embriodered handkerchiefs. I used to even wonder why my mom would wear jeans when she would come to pick me up at the bus stop, when all other moms were clad in traditional Indian wear. Her attire made me the odd one out.And at that time, I didn’t like it.

But then I started growing up and I realised that none of that mattered. What mattered was who she was, not the way she was. Mama was there for me. Always. She became my ‘go to’ person for almost everything. I suppose that is how all moms are. Hungry and need a quick snack? Go to mom. In a rush and need to iron your shirt? Go to mom. Tired and need a head massage? Go to mom. Moms are universal problem solvers.

My dependence on her grew as I grew in age. I startded depending on her for most of my emotional needs too. When I screwed up in a test, I went to her for consolation. When I was scared and nervous as I awaited my results, I went to her for some assurance. When I was in the midst of an abusive relationship, I went to her for advice. When I was going through an angsty breakup, I went to her for solace. When I needed company, I went to her for some lively conversation.

She was always there. Waiting for me. In my eyes, she has always been the perfect caregiver. Which is why I find it a little strange when the roles are reversed. Since the time she is here, I find myself worrying about her. Perhaps it is because she is in an alien land. And one that I am familiar with. It makes me feel responsible for her well being. She wanted to go for a walk by herself, but I was worried she’d be lost. Another time, I was out and she was frying some okra at home and I wanted to rush back to make sure she is okay. And to make sure she could handle the electric plates without a flame. Othertimes I worry that she is eating too little. I treat her like my child and she finds it very amusing.

I suppose life does go on in circles. We end up taking care of the people who raised us and made us who we are.

Some glimpses.

Here I am walking in front of mom. Fed up of my little girl because she refused ice cream, saying she is too full when she hardly ate anything..

We asked her to pose for a snap standing next to some pole. I was terrified of her falling as she climbed up. Here I am, making sure she gets on top safely.

And this one. We’re reading something together. I realise I am so much like her when I see her spending almost 5 minutes fishing out her reading glasses from her bag. I do that for my keys. I feel happy being like her, even if it is not the best thing.

And of course, all credit to Mint for capturing these moments at the right time.