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Tide - 16

Part - 16

The drain in Sanjana's house and was going to take a good few days to be repaired. She along with daughter Tara, had temporarily packed their bags and moved in with Padmaja.

Padmaja is on her bed reading while Tara lies next to her asleep. Padmaja watches the slender frame of her grand-daughter sprawled alongside her own body. She pats down her hair with tenderness. This is the only time of the day when Tara will allow her grand-mother to baby her. “I'm eight years old, paati.”, she would complain wriggling and struggling against any attempt to cuddle her.

Padmaja can hear the television playing in the living room. Sanjana is ironing Tara's school uniform for the next day while humming along to the song playing on tv. It is about a mother's unflinching, unconditional love for her son.

'You starve while you feed me, You have no life outside of me', sings the son to his mother.

She remembers reading somewhere that the actress playing the frail old mother was only a couple of years older than the actor who plays her son.

'You are the god I worship, you are the anchor of my ship'

In another life, she would have taken a hammer to the tv screen and gloated in its destruction. For now, she looks at the gently breathing chest of her grand-daughter, wraps her arms around her and draws her in close.

Comments

I loved the story. Or rather, this part of it.
Will go read all of them :)
Really liked the way you up it :)
Alien said…
Happy New Year....
Shammi said…
Story ennaachu? Ippadi thonga vida koodadhu! :(
Anonymous said…
And then?
Anonymous said…
what happens next?please continue thsi series
Sravi...

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Bio-data

Married for 31 years, 2 months and 17 days
Six cups coffee a day, brewed everyday of marriage
Three meals a day,
At least two dishes cooked, each meal-time
One snack for every Sunday
Big basket of clothes ironed every Tuesday
Average 18 items of clothing washed per day
Three children
1 miscarriage
One mother-in-law suffered
900 sq metre of floor space mopped, once a day
One caesarean endured
3 chicken poxes, 2 measles, 2 fractures, 8 diarrhoeas, depression, conjunctivitis every summer, 1 tonsilitis and countless common colds and flues
1 job held for 29 years
6 hours slept every night
Sex tolerated every 2nd week
Religious rituals everyone of them, carried out
Not one of them, believed in
Lived 52 years and some
Died exhausted

Overheard, “At least she had the satisfaction of having lived for her family”


http://jikku.blogspot.com/2005/02/quick-tale-3.html#c111042815438237631

The Saturday Poem

Found this in yesterday's paper. Again, I wish I'd written it.

-a

Now and Then

"Now that I'm fifty-seven",
My mother used to say,
"Why should I waste a minute?
Why should I waste a day

Doing the things I ought to
Simply because I should?
Now that I'm fifty-seven
I'm done with that for good."

But now and then I'd catch her
Trapped in some thankless chore
Just as she might have been at
Fifty-three or fifty-four

And I would say to her
(And I have to bite my tongue)
That if you mean to learn a skill
It's well worth starting young

And so, to make sure I'm in time
For fifty, I've begun
To do exactly as I please
Now that I'm thirty-one.

-Sophie Hannah

Lost in Post

To a little boy

It cannot be easy being you. A follow-up act to your more devilishly charming, flamboyant older brother. Before you were born, I was convinced that no child could ever take the special place your brother had come to occupy in my life. I used to argue with your father you would always be a second-born. A runner-up. A bridesmaid (or a best-man, as you turned out to be). That you could never be the prized, cherished, celebrated apple of my eye that my firstborn child was. But how easily you tore down my flimsy little conviction. The minute I saw you, I knew I was gone. What was worse, I succumbed willingly.

My fears that you would be overshadowed by your brother have proven unfounded. Over the past year, you have come into your own as a person. Your brother demands and challenges our love and attention. You, on the other hand, are much more accepting of our distractions with him. It is almost as if you understand that he is used to being the star of the show for much of his…

I ask, you write

Okay, here's the idea. I ask you a question and you write a short story explaining it. Let me give you an example.

What happened when young Padmavathi was drawing water from the well to wash her clothes, early one Margazhi morning?

Annon's story

One morning when Padmavathi was drawing water from the well, she found Pettai Rowdy # 1 Govindarajulu inside the bucket! She dropped it at once and Govindarajulu went down and down and hit the bottom of the well with a Nung sound. His upper and lower teeth fused together and since then he has been fed intravenously. Pettai Rowdy # 2, Ragothaman Iyengar, who suggested this to Govindarajulu, now rules the roost.

After marrying Padmavathi, he is inviting all of you to a water drawing ceremony at the new well they dug in their house.

Jai Ragothaman Iyengar! Jai Padmavathi! Come one, Come all!

-

Here's a question for you.

What happened that made young Meenakshi change her mind about the parrot green saree she had originally chosen and go for a …