At last the eagerly anticipated day dawns…our son comes home for his
holidays for the first time from the medical college hostel….
Hectic preparations have been on
for weeks….Many programmes have been planned for his amusement. Dust laden
cookery books come out and I frantically try to perfect my lemon soufflés and
apple pie….Spring cleaning his room is back-breaking….dog-eared comics – broken
compass – chewed off pencils…I ring up my friends and tell them to leave us
alone for a fortnight….we want to have our son all to ourselves!
I ring up the station six times
to find out train timings…Hubby goes to the car and checks air and gas…a few
trips to the bathroom to make sure there is enough hot water…a peep into the
kitchen to ensure the food is steaming…a final look around his room to see that
it is cosy and his blow-ups are in place….
As the train steams in, we
frantically search all the doorways and windows for the first glimpse of the
prodigal’s face – ah! there he is! “Hi mom, Hi dad!” a bear hug…a peck on the
cheek…enough to gladden a sentimental parent’s heart!
On the way home, incessant
chatter about college….dead bodies…jokes on skeletons disco-ing on
rooftops….accounts of ragging…complaints about food…. We just listen – avidly
absorbing the sound of a much missed voice.
The room, so carefully tidied –
becomes a refugee dump – out spills heaps of dirty linen….books strewn around
and a couple of bones appear on the study table. Carefree whistling accompanies
the blaring of music sans melody from the so-far-silent system…the bathroom is
a puddle of mucky water…soap suds on the mirror and wet bath towel trailing on
the stand.
“Ah! food!”….and a dash to the
dining table…everything is piled on the plate and gobbled up, punctuated with
m-m-m’s and ‘yummys’…the telephone tings- ‘hi yaar… a half hour conversation
with an old school pal - it goes
on…guffaws and jokes and nonsense (to us!) on the phone, for hours…
“Mom, will be back soon’…the door
bangs and he’s off – gallivanting with the cronies…
More days like this and all too
soon we are seeing him off at the station. Bags packed with freshly laundered
clothes, repaired books and even a well rinsed “bone”. A boxful of “goodies” to
be shared with ravenous room-mates… A smiling face peeps out from the speeding
window and a frantic wave as the train steams out…Another long wait for the
next visit when I can have my son all to myself! Oh! To be a mother!!
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