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Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Mom, I Love You...

I was 6 or 7 years old then…The venue is my uncle’s house and it’s the 14th day after the death of my uncle’s mother. As part of traditional belief or custom, there is a ritual to be followed by the son of the deceased at their residence. Accordingly, the morning of the D-day was very busy with visitors still pouring in with condolence and relatives being part of the rituals…By afternoon, the house was filled with just very close relatives and even that added up to atleast 30-40 people in there…

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A Detailing of the Situation:
If my memory hasn’t failed, that day there was some huge strikes going on all around the city protesting the attacking of a popular politician…the mob was angry that their leader was attacked and people were really into the roads to protest and show their support to their leader….As part of the protest, that day, there was to be a rally taking place with thousands of people participating. So from afternoon, the police blocked almost all roads and the roads were filled with the protestors walking in lines and moving thru every single street in the city…I still remember, the line took more than 2 or 3 hours to cross our house once started…so u can imagine how big the rally was…and the mood was ANGER..ofcourse…

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OK...let me come back to my story…so by afternoon, all these relatives that was left back at home naturally couldn’t go back to their respective houses due road blocks…so all the adults took seats at the balcony on the second floor of the building…and all the kids (including me) went to the terrace and continued playing…So now the scene is… “The adults in the floor below is sitting and watching the passing procession and we kids above playing…”

Now, what happened was…two of my cousins had a fight and they started up an argument…I got bored and started scribbling on the floor with a red brick in my hand…I was drawing pictures on the floor and the sides of the boundary wall of the terrace…and between was gazing out into the procession seeing the thousands of people passing by…

But, then…that happened before even I could realize…as I was standing at the edge of the terrace…one of cousin pushed the other one and she fell on me…in my panic to not to fall, the stone flew off my hand and fell down…just inches off from the passing public…[Now, remember, it was an angry mob…and if the stone had fallen into the group…it could have been mistook as some enemy group peltering them with stone and that could have resulted in a riot where these people could have just stormed into our house and thrashed all of the people in there…that day, I didn't know any of of the seriousness of the matter...Lucky for me, that the stone didn’t give me up on me that much…]

But, how lucky was I…bcoz, as soon as this stone fell on the floor…I saw my dad’s bro almost flying up to the terrace…His face was red…he was angry…and he was holding a stem of a banana tree…(actually I don’t know the exact word to be used for that DAMN thing…if u remember…u cut off the bananas from their plant as a one whole bunch…the whole set of bananas grow in a thick hard stem…usually, we pluck out bananas from this part and by the end, only the thick stem remains…Now, my uncle came up with this stem with no bananas, but with lots of protruding from where the bananas where once plucked…if you see the picture to the right...and imagine this long rough thing without the bananas on them...this remained after the traditional lunch which was always accompanied with bananas.)…Anyways, my uncle reached us and he just shouted out… "WHO THREW THAT STONE…?”…

I was really a kid…and STUPID too…not even realizing why he was so angry at such a small thing…I smiled and enthusiastically started answering… “Uncle…”

He didn’t let me complete…THUDDDDD….the rough end of the stem had already made it mark on my right thigh…Great, I was wearing a short frock, so the damn thing really could help itself on my thigh…I felt as if my vision was going off…I could feel stars flying all around me…I just couldn’t understand what happened a second back…I WAS LOST...all I could see is that my uncle dashing down the stairs the same way as he came up…

I was scared to dead…no voice came out of me even to weep..but my eyes were overflowing…my thighs were bleeding and giving a red colour to my white frock...and soon I saw the same uncle’s daughter coming running to me and pulled me to go down…she said, I was being called…I couldn’t move…I felt, that I was being called for more beatings…She dragged me down…as soon as we reached the second floor..it was my dad’s turn…not even asking me WHAT, he just dragged me all the way down the stairs to the ground floor…by holding my right hand…I literally hit each steps with the sides of my body as I was being pulled down…and shamefully let me admit…I was peeing all the way down due horror …

I was dragged into the house…and here my mom was sitting with many other ladies..none of them knew nothing of what happened outside…My mom suddenly saw my father fuming with anger dashing into the house dragging me on the floor all the way…She was terrified…her first reflex action made her carry me and push me into the bathroom and locked the door and guarded the door…I could hear her screaming and shouting… “WHAT HAPPENED…WHAT DID SHE DO…”…

I don’t remember anything after this…maybe I fell unconscious…maybe I forgot everything due fear…what ever…I remember, I hated my dad’s bro after that…and I hated his daughter more for taking me down…lol!!! Only days later, everybody knew the truth…that actually I NEVER THREW ANY STONE….IT JUST FELL OFF ACCIDENTLY… and the worst part was…when this stone fell..one of the old lady in the house lied that it fell on her head…when it really didn’t fall anywhere near her…that is what increased the intensity of the after effects…grrr..how I hated her, when I knew about this lie she said…Anyways, once my uncle knew that he mistook me…he pampered me with all sort of gifts to say SORRY…and in that age…those gifts were more than enough…I was ready for one more thrash…lol!!!

Only after years, I realized how bad that day turned out to be…Only then I could understand the real terror that might have happened if the stone had fallen into that rally(afterall I was a kid..I knew nothing of politics or protests…uhmm…)…

And with this one thrash my uncle made on me…a big family issue broke out…my mom was absolutely not approving of my uncle thrashing me…FOR WHAT SO EVER REASON…I came to know that my mom fought every single person who supported my uncle, including my dad…saying… “I don’t like anybody hitting my daughter…I haven’t given that authority to anybody…and HOW could u thrash her so mercilessly with that stem which is usually used to thrash cattles…I can never pardon you for that…”…. This outpour made everybody angry against my mom…they raised their brows for my mom talking back to them like that… They tried KEEP QUIET and don’t talk like that…but my mom still protested…

Years later, when I knew this…I was overwhelmed…I doesn’t remember anything like that about that day…but knowing that my mom stood there protecting me did make me sooo emotional…and even today...as I type this in…my eyes r wet imagining my mom protecting me against all the relatives…

Mom, Thanks for standing up for me…thanks for supporting me…thanks for trusting and believing me...thanks for going against all your loved ones just to protect me… Mom, I love you…

I will always love you, Mom….

4 comments:

जोगी said...

I love Mom too ;) :)

KParthasarathi said...

Fantastic story bringing the scenes as they were so vividly.Wonderful narration with vaazha mattai(stem of banana plant) as the instrument of oppression.Turned a bit emotional at the end.
I think I will hv to read all the posts without fail.Don't know how I missed this nice blog all these days.
Thanks for the comments.Hv since corrected the story
kpartha12@gmail.com

KParthasarathi said...

Thanks again for your comments on invisible danger.I don't hv your email ID to write back.
kpartha12@gmail.com

anupama said...

Dear Just for me,
Good Evening!
Lovely template;attractive.
Childhood is the best phase of our life and the memories can be cherished often!
My Amma ,my life,my breath and my source of inspiration!The only person who gives us the unconditional love!Amma represents God on earth!
Wishing you a wonderful week,
Sasneham,
Anu