At the Crossroads

I never really knew that so many people enjoy my Blog. That gives me a high. Really! If I have ever wanted to do something, I have wanted to write well, and to be appreciated for that is the icing on the cake.

Well, now that the cat is already out, one of the most special moments of my life is about to come – I’m getting married! It has still not gotten inside. I haven’t really thought about it, in the hustle and bustle of preparations.

I just wonder what life will be after marriage! No matter how much I try to think that nothing would change really but it is slowly seeping in that there would be a sea of change. Imagine not being able to run to your mum for everything you need to know, right from a recipe to worldly sophistication. Imagine not being able to call up your dad to ask favours, right from organizing your financial commitments to his advice on everything. Imagine not being able to run to your brother for every small or big problem, right from a railway reservation not confirmed to investments not done. Imagine being separated from your entire life and whatever you have nurtured till now. Imagine not being able to have any claim on what you have treasured for your entire life.

I never thought this is going to be so difficult. I am out of home since last 8 years. I never thought it would hurt so much to leave this time. I have never cried while leaving home, but this time it is going to be really bad. I hate the ambiguity of this situation. It is a momentous occasion that I’m marrying the person I want to marry but it is going to be immensely painful to leave the people I was born to.

Although I avoid thinking too much, try to be busy in the work that has to be done; but in those odd moments when it crosses my mind—even for a wink of a moment—I feel that heaviness in my heart. I think about mum, the hundreds of arguments, childish temperaments, odd comments; I regret them all. For I am what I am because of her. I have always done what I wanted to do, I have been extremely stubborn. But if I am educated, if I am qualified enough to be able to stand tall, feel proud about myself; it is only because of her. In fact, so many times I feel I behave like my mum. All my life I have never really listened to her, but being her daughter, I have imbibed so many of her habits and mannerisms. And today, I have no words to thank her for bringing me up the way she has. I am indebted for life.

Although I think I’m closer to mum, all girls are, but dad has always pampered me to the hilt. Right from the time when as a 5-year old and I declined to leave a toy store, since a telephone had caught my fancy. I realize how embarrassing it must have been for him, but he bought me that. It was an expensive toy at that time, still he gave me the joy of owning it. I still smile when I think about his advice on all my journeys alone. He would never fail to say all those words again and again, never forgetting a thing – “Do not get out of train. Do not take your hands out of the window. Do not leave your seat. Do not eat anything which your co-passengers will offer, no matter how friendly they seem. Go safely and eat well. Do you need money?”

What makes my dad special? The fact that he thinks the world is a good place and everyone is a good human being. Do good and you will get only good. And the fact that he has been a great dad. Right now, I can recall another embarrassing situation from my childhood. We had been to a sports store to buy shoes for my brother and much to my parents’ dismay; I had just acquired a fancy towards skating. And I decided that I am not leaving the store without getting a pair of skates. I feel foolish today and sad, how much I was pampered. A child is a child. It would fancy a thing this day and tomorrow it would be gone. Despite knowing this, my dad gave me everything I fancied. Even on this day, my parents have given in to my wish. I have absolutely no word to say Thank you, I would never have, there can never be a word to thank your parents. Isn’t it?

My Brother! My Bhaiya! I don’t know if God can ever make anybody as good again. He is a big brother in every sense. We have several funny and memorable instances from childhood, which I would treasure for the rest of my life. He was a brat in school. I was the coy one. After school, he would run away to play cricket or football, and give me his school bag to carry home (poor me!). I remember hundreds of those afternoons, when I was forced to bowl to him (he was a budding Sachin at that time) and tasting the horror of his culinary skills when mum used to be out. I remember hundreds of stories that he would tell me to fool me. But they all seem unimportant, insignificant and immaterial in front of the unquestioned and unconditional love and dependability he has given me in all these years. I cannot think of one word which will define what he means to me. A mentor, a friend, an idol, a parent, a confidante, a supporter, a guide—he has been all these to me and much, much more. I am an embodiment of his confidence. He has always been an inspiration and constant source of motivation for me. I just have to listen to him for a while to get back and get going. His energy is infectious. He is a person who can claim a room; he makes an impression wherever he goes. In fact, it seems so strange but I have picked up so many of his habits, may be because I always looked up to him while growing up. He used to have this habit of carrying several books with him whether he reads them or not. Same with me. My logic is what if I wanted to read this book and not that. So I eventually end up carrying 6-7 books on a week’s trip. He has this habit of buying a lot of books. He has subscribed to several magazines, which he keeps piling and saving to read one day! Well, you have got to come to my place to see that your self. I have only books and magazines in every corner of my house and I am never ready to part with any of them. The thing is I feel I should know about SEZ, Economic policies, what happened to P-Notes, latest trends in Fashion, Make up, politics, India’s relations with Pakistan, Russia, China and blah, blah, blah. Well, some day I would read them all. So they are all piling up. My so-called bed-side table for skimming at night; has already become a mountain of magazines. I have subscribed to, god only knows, how many magazines. In fact, now when I go to bookshop, I feel I have more books than they have! Phew! But I appreciate the fact that I have imbibed the habit of reading from my Brother, and writing has come naturally to me through my mum.

For him it is difficult to believe that his little sister has grown up and for me it is going to be very, very tough to leave the family, which has been a constant source of unconditional love. Can you believe it; I almost cried writing all these. I know it is going to be very, very difficult! I don’t know how every one does it?