Mom

As a child, I never liked my house. I always thought other people had better prettier houses. I always longed for a house with a lawn, sunlight, driveway, breeze , flowers, well done up bedrooms and a huge kitchen. In Jharia , we grew up in a concrete jungle, Long before Mumbai became one. There were makaans next to each other or with a three feet gap. Tree lined avenues was something I saw in Mumbai. In Jharia, all windows faced the street and the other houses.Most windows opened inside your own house. The aangan was on the first floor and some windows opened there. Mom n Aunt made a garden on the store room terrace which had no ladder or staircase. So we all jumped from one terrace to an aluminium sheet shed to this terrace garden. Even the water to this garden was sent by buckets in the same manner. Jharia had a severe water shortage in summers. With coal underground there was hardly any well water and rivers would dry so no municipal water. There was a huge overhead tank from where our water supply would come. One year, they found a dead body in that tank. We did not have water till they emptied and cleaned that huge structure.

Same way I thought other people s Moms were so well dressed,sweet and kind. Its so strange, I used find everything better in others, material or otherwise. I am constantly lacking and missing out on the goodies was what I thought. My cousins and friends thought I had such a pampered and lavish lifestyle courtesy my father. The discipline which my Mom instilled in me, I appreciate it now. I have Of course taken this several notches higher. I now tell my Mom what she should be doing with her life. She feigns tolerance at times and then doesn't miss an opportunity to tell me how I can better the way, I raise my children. We are constantly in competition as to who does a better job. She wins hands down, Look at me:)