Strange Songs'

She slowly shuffles the radio in the next room. Adjusts to AM. Stops at the station playing old songs. Last two days I have been very irritated at her. Dont know why! Just something she did to cross over a boundry while I was under work stress. Maybe she came to my room and laid down next to me while I was dressing up and made one or two disparging comments 'Wear a sweater! Its getting cold outside' I looked at her pissed banged the bathroom door and told her to bite her tongue. How many times must I tell her DONT TELL ME WHAT TO WEAR! she just never gets it!

When Dad is around they sleep inside a mosquito net and are in deep sleep by 9pm. I never have to engage with them much when they are together these days. They're quite a romantic pair really. I shudder at the thought of engaging with either of them alone. I am growing old and have started worrying about eventualities. They are growing even older and have planted those 'eventualities' in my head. Just to tell me what they think should be done when they are no more.(Thats forward planning for you!)

I never understand their logic of loving . At 27 everytime I come late(9pm is bloody late if you dont know) they pout like some great bond has been broken by my disrespect. Everyday however they look up for men stationed at the farthest corners of the world to bring their Baraat so that they can happily say Good riddane to me. The idea of marriage coming from them always reminds me of a sad Rabindra Nath Tagore story. It was perhaps called 'Sujata's dream' where a young girl being pressed to get married sleeps by the river and dreams that a boatman takes her with him only to drown her in the middle of the river!( I know Its a dramatic analogy but anyways!)

As I grow older and cynical I realise how much hardwork Love really is. If loving my won parents has started looking so daunting I dont know what hope does any other individual have with me around to be able to deal with it!(Arent we all better off in the Himalayas?) Its always scared me this distance between people who love each other too much. Its that complicated way intimacy circles us. The challenges are always hidden behind one thousand other things that dont really matter. And all those bruises marks and blues on our skins coming from trying to be close to each other. I never get it how some people find the courage to be reckless in love. I can hardly spare enough though for it on some days!


I have seen my dad cry only once in my life(when dadi died). I think second time will be when he will get me married. But I cant imagine him hugging me in public. All these years he has scarcely even come close to 1 meter of where I sit. Its the patriarchal/ feudal legacy that we take forward. I hate public displays of affection myself. I cringe everytime I see hugging couples in public. Maybe this is how my dad's stiffness has carried forward in the cycle of life.


My sister who was my little doll now lives in another city. Even when we meet after months she finds is too much to hug publicaly or privatly. I dont mind her really. Most of the days I dont even remember that I have an irritating sister(who takes away all my favorite kurtas with her) I sometimes worry when we will be older with families of our own if it will be strange to meet each other. She is so lovable and distant at the same time. A little bit like me writing this piece instead of talking to any of these people I am talking about. A little bit like my Dad travelling all the time and never calling me to tell me where he is. A little bit like my mother resentful that I dont spend enough time with her while she always refuses to go out with me(its too late, its too far, dont drive at this time, its too costly, its not worth the price) and is now playing her favorite song from GUIDE 'waqt be kiya kya haseen sitam''


Ironic I think...and quite strange too...