Letter to my Little One–9

Lonesome and Lonely….                                                                my-parker-pen.jpg

November02, 2006

Dear Little One,

You are interested to know that what I do with so much free time at my end when all three of you are not here to bother me. It is true that I wanted to have personal space when all of you would not have me any. I would, as well, seek time from the various job profiles that kept me more than busy. There used to be so much on my mind but neither space nor time to be called my own. And now, it is just the opposite. I have ample space of my own, literally as well s metaphorically. I roam like a ghost reigning alone a territory called home!

It is ironical that human heart craves for what it has not—when you three kept me occupied, I needed some time for me but now when I have time, I need and honestly crave for your company. So much so that the phone ring fills me with a hope to connect to you. And you would be surprised to know the amount of telephone bill that I paid all these months! Whenever the phone rings, I just grab it and the voice at the other end would, unmistakably say, “Have you had something to eat?” Now anyone in his senses would say what is so strange about it. Is it not customary for us Indians to put such a question to anyone we really care about. Yes, nothing seems to be missing except the fact that it is always one of you, my three children, or your papa who puts this question to me. It sure is strange as the roles have changed. What used to be my domain has now become yours. I am terrified at times to see how am I being subjected so much of change in my life. When all four of you seem so concerned about me—either you all connive together or I am seriously in a very different mind set, that you are able to see.

Ironically I find so much change in the way that I lead my life these days that one day even I was concerned to see so many changes coming in my life, unsurreptuously!

Even before I put water on the gas for a cup of tea, I switch on the computer as if it would connect me to the outside world—a world that you live in. And then see for the signs of you being there or not. If I find the blink against your name off, start writing my ramblings as they come to me and waiting for you to be online so that can say a few words to you as well. Is it not unhealthy for me?

Do you remember what we used to do not a very long time back. I would sit in the verandah and you would bring a cup of tea for me and both of us would be immersed in reading our favourite books so that later when we started with the menial, everyday chores, we would have to share something with each other.

Having a little time to our own self, I would rush to kitchen and you would start with the dusting and putting the home in order. It was so convenient an arrangement for both of us. But now I go to the kitchen when I understand that I must gulp down something. You would not believe if I tell you that I don’t even take my morning tea at times. It must surprise you as you have accused me so many times of being addicted to tea.

My dear little one, no one is addicted to anything I life. It is the time that makes one prefer one thing over the other. These days it is writing for me as addiction, but again it is because of free time that I want to put use to that has made me addicted to it. When there would come a change in my life, I would give it only that much time as it calls for and not just whole of my time. Perhaps I write because I may not have time to think—think useless thoughts that s it.

When your Papa come home n weekends, I don’t even open the mailbox and don’t write anything as at that time we have so much to talk to and writing takes a backstage place in my priorities.

So dear, it is the time that decides what activities you indulge in. It is futile to think over “we used to…” kind of nostalgic thoughts as they make you long for things that get lost somewhere in the maze of our existence. It is always new beginning at all stages of your life.

Looking back at my own life, I can see it undergo so many changes that if I call my life to be “from Chullha to Computers” it would not be wrong. So love doing what life expects from you at the time and place you live in as I am doing.

Love

Ma

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