Radhika's Diaries

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In my school days, I had one major grouse against my mother. There were many more, but this one was top o’ the list. I always thought she had an easy life with nothing to do all day, except loll around the house eating chaklis or any of the other snacks {that she herself had made incidentally}; while I had to, not only sweat it out at school, but come home and do homework AND swat for exams too! Life is so not fair, I used to think.

Since I’m in such an unexplainably confessional mood today, I might as well tell you that I would sometimes hide those chaklis before stepping out of the house on a school morning, so she couldn’t indulge herself behind my back!

Funnily enough, even today, she still makes those delightful, trademark butter chaklis of hers and waits for us to help ourselves before she tastes them.

At 80, my mom is a bundle of energy and enthusiasm and game for pretty much anything; pressing dozens of chaklis being the least of them.

A new dish she’s tasted somewhere? She’ll somehow dig up the recipe and promptly try it out at home. A new plant she’s seen somewhere? She’ll instantly beg, borrow, steal a sapling and before sunset, she’s out there sitting on her small stool digging up a new home for it. A new face she spots in her neighbourhood? The Sherlock Holmes in her instantly comes alive and before you know it, she’s digging out details of that person’s past, present and future.

Mom loves to talk! She talks to anyone and anything, and that’s an understatement. She talks to the plants in her garden, “What’s wrong with you? Why aren’t you growing?” she asks one sad looking plant. She talks to the ingredients while cooking. “I hope you’re not too spicy!” she tells the green lethal-looking chilies before popping them into a dish. “Get out and stay out!” she yells at the stray cat which is stealthily slinking out the garden gate after poo-ing all over her precious lawn. She even talks to the television. “You idiot, can’t you see she’s lying?” she asks the protagonist while watching her favourite serial.

Mom’s ability to grasp, establish and remember relations is legendary. She is an encyclopedia on how, where, when and why someone is related to someone else in our community. She only has to be told a couple of pertinent details about a person like – family name and place of origin – and there you are… 3 generations of that bemused person’s family tree will take root right in front of him in an instant.

And while she’s a past master at this sort of thing, my dad isn’t; which sometimes gives rise to hilarious situations. When someone comes up to dad and throws the million-dollar {but idiotic} question “do you remember me?” at him; Dad will not remember, but without batting an eyelid, dad will exclaim loudly and affirmatively but vaguely. Then he’ll drag that person off in search of mom and pass on the baton to her, with an enthusiastic “Look who I met! Recognise him?” Of course she does. And dad is saved.

But on some rare occasions, when she’s in a naughty mood, she’ll throw the question back at him and then sit back to watch the fun. And it is fun. Dad will splutter and stammer and tie himself up into knots. But not for long. Mom will jump in to rescue him pretty soon, not because she wants to, but because as I told you earlier – she loves to talk.

Mom is also the unofficial blame-taker in the house. Right from a faulty fuse inside the house to barking dogs outside, it’s all her fault. “Amma did something,” is the chorus that goes up by default. Initially she would be upset at being made the scapegoat for everything, but now as the years have gone by, she’s bewildered if something is not blamed on her. She kinda feels left-out, I guess. She’s like the proverbial rubber ball. Praise her or compliment her – it’ll simply bounce off her; criticize or disapprove and pretty soon she’ll bounce back!

While raising a toast to this amazing and remarkable woman that is my mother, I must say I am super proud to be related to her.

However, since we’re in the confession mode, I admit here that I still have my doubts about mom and those butter chaklis, while I was sweating it out at school all those years ago…!

šŸ™‚

10 thoughts on “Mom and the butter chaklis!

  1. Ruchi says:

    You made me senti today. Moms are so sweet. Isn’t it?

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Totally Ruchi. šŸ˜šŸ˜šŸ˜šŸ˜

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Sunith says:

    Loved reading this post

    Like

  3. Your mom seems to be such a lovely lady. And since you have been mentioning butter chaklis a lot, I am craving for them now. šŸ˜ƒšŸ˜ƒ

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Hahaha. Confused whether the post is about my mom or the chaklis right? šŸ¤£šŸ¤£

      Liked by 1 person

      1. šŸ˜šŸ˜œ

        Liked by 1 person

  4. kittysverses says:

    You’ve written on all our behalf a wonderful ode to all our mothers/ grandmothers/ aunts , the binding forces of a family. I enjoyed reading it, Ma’am. šŸ™‚

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Awwww. I’m so glad the post resonates with you too. šŸ˜ŠšŸ˜Š
      Thank you dear.

      Liked by 3 people

      1. kittysverses says:

        You are welcome, Ma’am. Thank you for writing a beautiful post. šŸ™‚

        Liked by 2 people

      2. kittysverses says:

        You are welcome, Ma’am. Thank you for writing a beautiful post.:)

        Liked by 1 person

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