Five more days for my Dad's first death anniversary.Two days ago, Linta rang me up from London ,to tell me that Mommy was under depression for a couple of days.I loathed myself for not reading it from her words ,which she speaks to me everyday.I realized that I have been so caught up with my life here that my conversations with her were just that ...mere conversations...insensitive ...hurried ...
My Mom..I wish I could erase a few pages from her life and rewrite them all over again.I would change her life partner in my version of her story .My Dad was not at all the person whom she dreamed about , though he loved her in his own way.She expected a friend with whom she could share everything and Dad was uncommunicative.This was and still remains my mom's one regret about the years she spent with my Dad
I could do nothing about it other than lend my ear to her grievances.She survived despite their differences and I wonder if the bitterness succeeded in clouding all those good memories she had of their life together.
She was always a giver and hence a person who is taken for granted.My taciturn daddy and suppressed mommy.But still I have observed this unspoken words of love and affection between these two people who are poles apart in their nature.
I recollect this vivid picture of daddy leaving a portion of all those delicacies which mommy would make for him,at the corner of his plate and his voice calling out for her to come and collect the plate.It was my daddy's way of acknowledging " I know that you give all the best portions for me and your children.This is for you .Now eat it before the girls take it away too." I am a witness to this silent declaration of love and have also heard it many times from my mommy .
Daddy was never a person to express his tender feelings towards his children. But I know that we were the world to him ...his universe.
Does love need display ? Yes.Yes because then you don't have to dissect and analyse actions to assign this or that particular act as a declaration of love. It is just like pulling out the petals of a flower repeating 'he loves me,he loves me not ...he loves me ..he loves me not ...and you are never sure what you would end up with .
It took years for my doubting mind to have complete assurance of my daddy's love.Hence it is not a predicament which I would wish for anyone.
My Mommy would have hoped for something more than these snippets which are difficult to preserve with its total warmth and radiance.She wouldn't have to have pasted Daddy's photos in the kitchen and for once,complain and impute him for all his dominance through this one sided exchange.
She is donning up a brave exterior for our sake but she needs someone to talk to,face to face and not this everyday telephonic conversations.By believing her facade, we are doing her the same wrong.She needs someone with flesh and blood,next to her,when she talks and not a photo or a voice at the other end of the line.
