I had almost forgotten what it was like to have a meal with my family. But yesterday my parents, who are currently visiting us in Sydney, and I chatted for 3 hours straight over brunch – discussing a whole bunch of topics. Bedroom designs, my brother and his girlfriends, my sister and her high maintenance food cravings, bathroom decor, disposal of garbage etc …etc. In between admiring banana bread and hot-cross buns, my Dad explained to me the structure of a Septic Tank and how it works back home.
I also became aware of things that we had never talked about before. Like how there’s no garbage bin around my home. My dad would collect all the household garbage and throw them at a designated place about 2 km away.
Or how my mom refuses to use the washing machine under the pretext that there’s never enough load for a quick wash. When I tell her to collect all the clothes for a couple of days and wash them together, her eyes bulge out of the socket at the thought of dirty laundry lying around the house. She now highly doubts if I am her daughter.
It feels like home again. I haven’t lived with my parents for a really long time, except for a few odd weeks in a gap of two years or so, but some things never change. Like me running after dad to tell him not to sweep the leaves under the blazing sun or my squabbles with Mom.
Every single day since she had been here our argument remains the same.
“Mom please don’t do the dishes by hand, I will put them in the dishwasher.”
“But they are just lying around, I can wash them in 5 minutes.”
“Mom please!!!”
I still mouth similar dialogues I did a few years back when I visited them in India.
“Dad don’t be a He-man. The pots are too heavy.”
“Mom you don’t have to wipe the kitchen if there’s nothing else to do”
“Dad stop killing the bugs on the lemon tree”
It goes on till the night.
“Dad it’s 11 pm. Not a good time to watch Facebook videos. Go to sleep”
“See, he does that all day long”, my Mom would quip from behind.
“And why are YOU still awake?”
“Oh! just finishing this embroidery on the pillow cover”.
“What pillow cover!!”
I have no idea when she turned the 4-meter plain white cloth into pillow covers and handstitched pretty flowers on them too.
I do miss having meals with my siblings, although we were never good at making normal dinner table conversations. When your siblings are veterinary doctors, “classy” convos fly out of the window. Instead, the shape and texture of parasites that exist in the intestines of bovine are discussed in extreme detail, while munching delicious vegetable Pulao and desi chicken curry.
Its been ages since I read one of your fun posts Raj – you pack so much warmth and with into them. Parents are the same world over I guess!
Such a fun read this post was, Raj! I can imagine how it must be having parents around. I guess all our moms are pretty similar, and their fussing over us and helping us out only shows how much they still love to care for us, never mind that we have now grown up and can manage things our way. You post brought back memories of my family gathering in Kolkata a few weeks back.