Apart from Mothers day I must say it was an interesting weekend- was there a revelation? There was not a minute when I felt the absence of my mother though she was 200 miles away basking at her mother’s place. From the crack of dawn till the blanket of dusk covered the sky, dad was running around the house, bitchy, pugnacious, flagrant temper and bossy like a cocky hen but without any stretch marks. Where was the mother hen in him hiding all these days? 32 years is a very long gestation period for a man to deliver the mother in him. I was a silent spectator to all that was happening at home this weekend.
Dad has always been the cool cucumber in the house, unperturbed, but it doesn’t mean that he is irresponsible he just likes to walk the journey life with a care-free attitude. I always wanted to by live like him. My dear mother, a lady with the iron heart has been a martinet and playing the game of life by the rule book, may be this was because she had to play the role of father till we were in our teens. Well anyways, it is interesting to see how life brings opposite poles together and how they tide over the ocean of life together. And more interestingly people never remain same; the colors of life keep changing like the seasons. We start at one end of the pole and we walk and walk and at the end of life we end up at the other end without realizing the journey.
All fathers are invisible in daytime; daytime is ruled by mothers and fathers come out at night. Darkness brings home fathers, with their real, unspeakable power. There is more to fathers than meets the eye. Margaret Atwood, Cat's Eyes
Coming back to the (dis) hormonal motherly weekend, dad was up at the crack of dawn which is rare event and even rarer than sighting a blue moon. A man who never even lifted his used silverware after the meal was now at work. One minute he is filling water in the washing machine and segregating whites and colors and next the minute I see him near the storage bin with the bundle of newspapers from the previous day. Is this mother hen on Red bull? My eyebrows went up /:-0
It didn’t stop with just the running around. He was busy giving orders to the servant maid and giving unsolicited tips on how to do dishes, how to economize on the gritty Sabeena, how mop the floors without leaving footmarks and how to hang clothes in the clothes line. I was wondering if he was attacked by a virulent strain of Mami virus or possessed by a Mylapore Mami. He was not trying to teach her, but trying to be her humiliating mother-in-law.
I could see the fury of hurricane Nargis her neatly kaajaled eyes, and pleated portion of her polyester saree was tucked to the right of her hip, she was all ready to wage a war and then stage a walk out. I saw the long serrated knife that I left in the sink last nite after slicing the watermelon and I had momentary vision of Mother Kali, and for a change it was not mom but the maid.
With all this happening in the background I called mom to wish her for Mothers Day and I ended up giving her a progress report on her dear husband. My running commentary was exposing the “desperate wife in him.” It made her anxious, uneasy and she was protective. She quickly dispensed an idea for truce. I interrupted his pedagogy and assuaged the maid with a hot cup of coffee made with extra dash of good decoction and milk without any water. All with a faint hope of cooling her fuming brain and squished ego. I pulled my dad aside and warned him of the repercussions if she quit and I told him I was not interested in doing the dishes or clothes for the weekend.
But he never showed any signs of cessation. Where did dad get all this energy come from and where was the house cleaning wisdom hiding all these years? Was he scared to open his mouth in front of my mother? Now the mother role went to the level of micro managing and looking over the maid’s shoulder. Hope it was only shoulder J and not in between the shoulders.
32 years of living with my dad and I have seen him very responsible but never seen him making petulant comments and micro managing (feminine side). At times I was feeling like running my finger nails against the wall and I wanted to yell “Stop it! I wish I had a camera to record all his movements, words and activities- my dad uncut J. Would Mom really be proud to see him this way or would she be threatened to see the other women in my father? But all said and done she would be surprised to see her role being performed with more punch and vigor. For the first time I felt my father could have been a good stay at home father, but I always knew my mother would be a CEO if she had gone to work.
It was usually mom who would be upset with the maid for her delinquency and shoddy job and my father would assuage her and coach her to take things lightly. And now it is complete reversal of role. It is now my father with short fuse, and whole nine yards. My mother had turned to can cool beans after crossing the menopause milestone, but I guess it is my dad’s turn to go through lap in life, but seemed liked a never ending lap. Do men ever pause?
If the relationship of father to son could really be reduced to biology, the whole earth would blaze with the glory of fathers and sons – James Baldwin
Do I have to wait till Fathers Day to see the father in mom? Some more time to go..
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