A Tonic For A Happy Day

Butterfly sat on my window

First written on 3rd October 2016

Happy Birthday Mom!

I am a little light headed and a little light hearted. Only the intensity of the heat reins me in.

I hauled myself out of bed early to greet mom first at 6:10 and then at 6:25 – her birth time as remembered by her and as recorded in her horoscope. Well she was a pretty precocious new born to have looked at the clock and read the time as she peeked out of her mommy, yowling. And remembered it, to boot. I’m told she had a really big head. She did till the end didn’t she? A little too big for her petite but solid body! I am thinking of her beautifully formed, sturdy bones – but we won’t go there lest I’m led to traverse darker, more disturbing paths.

Once she was dreaming a high-action drama of nabbing a pair of thieves and in her sleep she grabbed dad twice and yelled “Daaaay, Deiiyyy!” and startled him awake. He was rather shocked because she’d never addressed him that way. And then he realized she was performing on quite another stage(I typed amother and that's an interesting slip). He shook her awake as she was threatening to jump out of bed in pursuit of something. “Are you ok?” he asked, suppressing his laughter. By then I’d heard the commotion and entered the room. “You addressed me rather strangely,” he continued. You grabbed me and were reaching out to grab my throat” he exaggerated, the mischief bursting out of his now red face and crinkling eyes.

“Where am I?” she asked and then looked around. “Where are they? Oh I was dreaming.” She went on to explain how she was alone in her old beloved house that she’d left behind and there were two shady characters at the window , plotting how to break in. She was in bed and they were staring at her. And she was jumping out of bed and trying to grab them both. They got away. Evidently Daaaay was for the more menacing of the two and Deiyyy for his sidekick.

Now you folks may know a word “Da” that is used in Tamil Nadu. Used in a familiar way with your peers rather like yaar and dude and so on, but also in a rather contemptuous way to address uncouth characters with dubious motives. No this is NOT “Da” used in Bengali for brother (Tha as in the English “the”). The D is nice and hard. Well Daaay and Deiyyyy (barked out staccato) have stuck forever as the names of the menacing pair that tried to enter through a window with strong iron bars. A thief once succeeded in twisting a bar in the kitchen of that house; this kitchen has no bars thanks to MY wisdom at a young age but that story will come later. Don’t ever underestimate the thieves of Tamil Nadu. They are the smartest I ever heard of and they will risk their lives and limbs for pots and pans, the bravehearts!

Daaay and Deiyyy however, led Dad and me to report to our good Dr Lal that mom was running wild at night, and to prescribe some tranquilizers.

Another time mom actually did it. She leapt out of bed and landed on her head. She woke with a start and asked herself “I wondered where that noise came from” and then realized “Hey that was me, that was the sound of my head hitting the ground.” And of course we hauled her right back to the good doctor.

A third time (Dad had passed on by then), mom courted trouble with a wasp. I later discovered a technique for disarming wasps, but those were the days when battle was considered grand. It was the good old days before the Lotus Weapon(read Rendition – the magazine from SMG) was discovered and battle trophies were displayed in the shape of deceased wasps and suchlike.

Mom ran after a menacing red wasp with a Jhool Jhaaroo (a long witch’s broomstick used for flicking off cobwebs) and whacked it. The wasp fell to the ground and was deemed vanquished. Strangely the trophy disappeared before we could claim it and I expressed misgivings, but mom was satisfied.

The reality was more grim. Later that afternoon, mom shoved her hands into a bucket in which she had soaked clothes, planning to wash them. And she hollered. Something had crawled out of that mess of suds and grabbed her finger. She drew her finger back sharply and there was the monster, floundering on the pail’s rim. Needless to say it was mayhem. I had to destroy the wasp while also getting Dr Lal on the phone. I had to check her to see if the sting had been left behind, in which case take her to the clinic asap, yada yada being the advice. No, not even a souvenir from the mysterious being!

A few cetrizines and ointments later, she was able to laugh. And when they met they were able to laugh together. He would always remember the time “that insect bit her.” Never say the word wasp – its spirit will seek vengeance.

The very next time she fell (another leap in the alter-verse), he came to visit her and asked “What were you doing Mrs Rao, chasing crooks?”

Mom I hope you are catching scores of crooks and locking them safely away. You couldn’t stand anything unfair and I wonder what you think of the insanity of the present times. Stay safely away from it, but hey, give us a hand from where you are!

Footnote – mom subsequently made peace with wasps, after I discovered how to talk to them and politely guide them out with the same broomstick. We mellow with age don’t we? I have a feeling while we were chasing after the cetrizine etc, the original wasp made a dignified exit, soap suds and all. We did’t investigate details and we won’t ever :(

PS – credit for the word Caitiff (for those familiar with the character in my life) goes to mom. Look up for etymology. I bet in her mind Messrs D&D were caitiffs.

PS2 Mom loved Durga's 108 lotuses and the lotus in her hand(her 10th weapon). However she couldn't stand this "lotus" that runs the govt of India now. She couldn't stand Bush and she was the one who showed me the picture of him hauling off the pumpkin to America. She would have exploded at the sight of Trump!

PS3 See a dearly loved insect as the post picture. A symbol of Durga and of love and prosperity.