5:30 a.m.The alarm rings.
My morning routine is of working with two hands and doing the work of five. The morning hustle involves making food their individual tummies love and getting them ready with their capes as they prepare themselves to battle the world.
“Here’s your crispy dosa and your favourite tomato chutney, just the way you like it.”
I place their plates on the dining table and wait for their smiling faces. Soon, they did have a curve on their respective faces. But unfortunately for me , those were not for me but directed towards their phones. I received no acknowledgment let alone a smile.
Time had advanced too much in our lives. Silly of me to think they were the same like a few years ago. I regret for not having catching glimpses of their faces properly when I could.
Soon after, I bid goodbyes to each one of them and then, I am left with an entire day which I usually spend by waiting for my birds to return to their nest and fill the void in my home, my life. But these days, that void never seems to get really filled. It stays true to its name more often than not.
After the repetitive morning chores and my lunch is when I actually get time for myself. My time with no intrusion whatsoever. As much as I would like to go back to those afternoons when I spent time with books(world's greatest blessing,I must say) there is something missing in me which doesn’t allow me to do the same. Now, my afternoons are just a collective stream of thoughts about everything; everything under my roof. My walls, which had different stories to tell, few years back. My heart, which was a lot happier,sometime ago. The change, which happened so soon for which I wasn’t prepared.
Suddenly my doorbell rings and interrupts all that my mind thinks all day,everyday. My daughter is back from her college and I am all ears waiting for her stories. She enters with a smile and sits on the sofa with a giggle.
How I wish that smile was directed at me and I could hear that joke for even I want to giggle with her! She no more has stories to tell me.Maybe I am too old for her now to understand them. If only she would try! Her stories are open for the world to see and hear, but not me. A friend on Facebook or a follower on Instagram were the options I had to know more about her, just like the others.
“How was your day, Ammu? And how was my pav bhaji? Learnt to make it watching YouTube videos..”
“Maa,maa, I am going out now. It has been two days since I met Radhika!”
“Now?You haven’t eaten anything yet. Have something and then go.She stays two blocks away.You can meet her anytime you want!”
“No no. I have to go now.She needs to talk to me. I will have something from outside. Chalo bye!”
And gone. My heroic daughter has gone to save her best friend from shedding a few tears, maybe. I don’t know. I tend to know very few things these days, anyway.
I am glad she cares for someone atleast. I pray they care for her too when time comes.But if they don’t, I hope she realizes she can come running to me and not limping.She wouldn’t have to knock any doors or hesitate a bit .I ‘ll be there waiting for her, rain or sunshine.
I see his car getting parked. I rush off to make his tea, hot as he likes it. On his phone for few minutes while drinking tea had become his routine now. Carrying work to home was not something I approved of. But my approval didn’t have a life of its own these days.He ends his call and his tea and I look at him expectantly to have a conversation.
“She is not back home yet?”
“Yes yes.She reached on time from college.Now she has gone to meet Radhika.”
“Okay.”
And I think of initiating a plan for a family trip. They say it is a great ingredient for bonding. I had already collected details of how to visit Coorg. He is not an adventurous kind of a person. I knew he would prefer a calm,pleasant place, atleast according to the latest update in my family database.
“I was thinking that we could go to Coorg next month during the long weekend. It would be refreshing for all of us from this hectic schedule. I have aready done my research about the tariff and other stuff.”
I wait for him to turn his head from the newspaper he had stooped into and respond to what his ears had just received. I was hoping for an enthusiastic yes because he had always been like that.But I was met with a reply that I should have known even before asking. His flight schedule for the next week was the reply, yet again. This was the 5th time that my itinerary never made to its destination.
“And anyway, what do you need a break from, Sumukhi? You have all the time in this world! Haha!”
I smiled,unwillingly.Hoping he would know what I need a break from. A break from the fear of being so distant that someday, we might not recognize one another.
I remember all those trips we made when Ammu was a kid, Arun didn’t have this crazy workload and most importantly, both weren’t so ignorant of me. I knew things were changing. Because if they were not, I wouldn’t be the one making the Coorg plan. Trips happen all the time now,too. But those plans are all exclusive of me with her best friends and his colleagues. I am no more a friend to them now. I don’t know whether I was ever their friend. Doubts have started creeping in which I have tried to resist since a very long time. Only thing I am sure of is that they are my friends. My only friends. But they find it difficult to give me access to their virtual accounts let alone their real life. Privacy, they coin it. And as their friend, I am ready to understand that. My only wish is to be at the receiving end of their understanding, love and care for atleast sometime, each day,if I am allowed some greed. Just sometimes. Understand just enough to turn my imaginary itineraries into reality and care just enough to make plans not very different from mine.
“Hey Papa! I am back home!”
“Hello my little girl. Stay at home when I am back from office,no? I miss you, no!”
“Oh daddy. She just had something important to discuss. Anyway, I am back home now,okay?”
A year back this conversation would have been extended by tales of versions of their day and I would try to sit and fathom what all my birds have to go through before flying back to our nest. But today, this conversation ends right there. No jokes at me,no discussions, no debates. The daily discussions at home are met with silence these days, everyone battling battles at the tip of their fingers in the name of voicing opinions. When was the last time I heard a voice in my house about an issue, I don’t remember. I can only hope they get enough practice in their institutions to actually, literally voice their opinions and not resort to the rescue of our smartphones to connect to the world.
“Amma! Is the dinner ready? I am hungry!”
So many thoughts run through my head and make a mess that I don’t realize how time passes while cooking in my kitchen. Now, suddenly, my birds remember that I exist. I am afraid it is not even them, it is just their tummies who love me.
Dinner time.
Now I don’t wait for their approval of my food. The only ones to appreciate my food are her friends and followers. First the camera lens, then the naked eyes- order in which my food is received these days. No matter how hungry she is. Before every morsel that goes into his mouth, there is a constant peep at his phone for beeping notifications-the everyday response to the food I still make with love.
One room. Three different worlds bounded by walls. Boundaries that expand day by day. Walls that grow higher every day. A peek into their space is permitted only if you are a proud, smart owner of a smart phone. Switch from reality to the virtual world is at the tip of your finger.We smile more often looking at a message or a face miles away from us rather than hearing or smiling at a person next to you.
I wish I could turn back the clock and bring the wheels of time to a stop. To the time when their individual stories were our stories. To the time when my stories were heard too.To the time where there were no walls or boundaries. To the time when we bonded in real and not on Facebook. To the time we made our one single plan, instead of three different ones. To the time when we smiled through our hearts, and not only when a camera was pointed at us to take a family picture.
To the time when I was still unprepared for a change in my paradise.
To the time when I did not wait for validation for my love.
To that time when my love did not have an expiry date.
To that time when my unconditional love was their medicine to heal everything.
It is just my head which is too noisy. I am surrounded with nothing, but silence.
Eyes are glued to their phones, waiting for sleep, waiting for another day. Just like any other day.
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