Stories that exist because mobile phones did not

It was the summer of 1987, I think.  My cousins had come visiting us in Madras (now Chennai) from Coimbatore.  My dad decided to take an impromptu day off from work and take us to the beachtown of Mahabalipuram. The town is famous for its UNESCO world heritage site of stone monuments built in the 7th and 8th century and also a beautiful lighthouse and beach.  My mom had to go to work and was disappointed that she could not join us.  So she left to work and we four kids and my dad left to the city's main bus stand to take the bus to the Mahabalipuram.

We had a blast that day, climbing the stone monuments, up the lighthouse, visiting the beautiful shore temple and then finally the beach.  We were all a couple of shades 'browner' than our usual selves and then the uncomfortable bus ride back in wet clothes.  Perfect day!

As soon as we came home, we could smell something delicious being fried in oil! My mom was home and she was making murukku, a tasty rice and lentil deep fried snack.  And she had tall cold glasses of mango milkshakes waiting for us as well!  What a fitting end to a great day... But wait, why was mom home at 3:30 in the afternoon... She was supposed to be at work.

So when mom went to work that morning and her on-duty manager found out that she was missing out on the family outing, he gave her the day off.  Mom's office was close to the main bus stand and so she rushed over to find us but in vain.  So instead, she went home, relaxed a bit and started making our snacks and milkshakes.

That's what my mom told us... but in my mind I picture the whole scene like it is out of a movie... my mom, in her saree, with her long braided hair and her handbag propped on one shoulder... walking, running around in that sprawling bus stand that was a maze of diesel smoke spewing, horn blaring, idling busses,  her eyes scanning for her family near the ticket counters, shops... looking up to the bus windows to see if we were seated inside.  How happy she must have been when she got the day off and how disappointed she must have been when she could not find us.  We compared times and figured out that my mom came to the bus stand minutes after our bus left.

I have mixed feelings about that day... very sad about my mom not being able to join us in spite of her having the day off.  But we were famished after the hot day out.  If I close my eyes even now and think about that day, I find myself in that G-40 kitchen and I can still taste the crunchy murukku and the cold mango milkshake in the red and yellow 'Yera' glasses.  If my mom had found us in the bus stand that morning, we all would have come back to a home sans murukku and milkshake.... So....

Dead Jokes

My Appa was never afraid of the concept of mortality. In fact, he joked about it all the time. He often played dead with his eyes rolled up and tongue stuck out when we were kids and we would tickle him back to life.  He would be lying on the bed and would suddenly point to the window and say "See! My mother! She is calling out to me to come join her! Shall I go?"  My grandma had been dead since my dad was eighteen and that was his way of making a segue into talking about how strict she was as a mother.  He would use the words ‘kicked the bucket’ when he had to convey someone had passed.

Over the years I saw my Appa lose many of his close friends (most of whom were his co-workers) as well as his relatives and older siblings and take it all in his stride.  He would reminiscence about all the good times he had with the departed one, about all that they had done for him.  A few years ago, he lost one of his older brothers.  On our usual facetime call, he said "I know that he was old and that he lived a good life. But I remember all the times we used to run around and play rough as boys. I just miss him".  He did mention to me once that the only thing he was afraid of was being cremated after death. He was worried that it might be too hot.  "You won’t feel a thing, you’ll be dead" I said. "How do you know?" he countered.

How would I know? After Appa’s passing last year, I started thinking about after-life for the first time.  Where is he now? Is he with his mother? Is she as strict up there as she was on earth? Did he get to meet all his friends and favorite movie stars?  Do American movie stars and Indian movie stars all go to the same place after they pass? How would I know?

I too play the 'tickle me back from the dead' game and joke around with the girls about mortality every now and then and they've always surprised me with very relevant questions - Mom, what's the pin to your bank account? You and Appa have life insurance, right?! More recently, after my oldest turned eighteen, when the topic came up, the girls discussed about how the 18 year old can technically adopt the little one, transfer to a local school and the two of them will continue to live in our house in the event something happened to both us parents! The insurance will help pay off what's left of the mortgage, right?!

Some ten years ago (sorry, if you already were my FB friend when I posted this back then :)), I was humming the song 'If I die young...', when my little one went 'Mom! you CANNOT die young!' I thought she was going to follow with how much she loves me and depends on me but instead she said 'you are already old!' 

Well, I'm older now and that much closer to kicking the bucket!