Thoughts while stirring the kesari on my mom's birthday!

 One of the best books I have read is “My Father Baliah.” Baliah’s son narrates how his father raised his family through education. It is a simple book on the legacy of a father and the ordinary things our parents do that shape our lives and the people we become. I remember reading the last chapter of the book on my Kindle while on a train. The book ends with Baliah being taken to the grave, and I cried thinking about my mom. I thought to myself that someday I should write a book titled “My Mother Tamilselvi.” The thoughts reappeared when I was cooking kesari on my mom’s birthday. That is the only dish she would consistently prepare for all our birthdays. We used to tease her that she couldn't cook anything else, and she never bothered to prove us wrong.

Though I may not be close to writing a book, I thought of writing down the thoughts running through my mind while stirring the kesari. People usually credit mothers for delicious meals, but to be honest, I do not remember any of her meals, except for probably the seafood she prepares on weekends. Growing up, we had a meal timetable in our house for every day of the week. This was to keep her cooking easy and not worry about what to cook every day. Every Saturday we would have spinach, and Mondays were for bitter gourd. She is a savage if you understand. I had resolved that when I started cooking my own meals, I would never cook sambar on any Friday, simply because we had sambar in our Friday timetable, and I always traded it with some colleague. Mind you, my mother cooks three meals for five people every day and never misses a day at work. She would set time limits for everything, and even if the food was undercooked by that time, she would simply switch off the stove and pack it in our boxes.

She was always on the clock and never bothered about useless things like pleasing everyone with her cooking.

 "Can you cook this better next time?” I would ask. 

“Can you cook it yourself next time?” she would reply. 

“He will not like this breakfast,” my sister would say.

 “Nobody is asking him to eat,” my mom would reply. 

“This food is very good,” my other sister would say. 

“Thank you, and others learn from her,” my mom would say.

She is a rare woman who never once cared that cooking a delicious meal that satisfied everyone was her primary job. If you have food on your plate that someone else prepared for you, shut up and be grateful. The message was loud and clear, and I could not thank her enough for this lesson.

She raised us to be self-reliant. If not for her, I would have never learned to drive a car. She was a visionary who always thought ahead and prepared us for the outside world. My life would have been in a rut if I had not learned to drive a car. I cannot express my gratitude for the stern resolve she showed in making us drive, despite not knowing it herself.

She was always working and never truly rested, which is something that has irked me always. Even on holidays, she would simply keep cleaning some shelves and also make us clean all the weekends leading to Diwali. She only takes power naps and does not get enough sleep. She has extremely wrinkled eyelids because of this. There is an activity she loves doing but doesn’t show others: keeping the TV on full volume and watching it alone. Sometimes when I wake up from my afternoon nap during weekends, I see her doing this and never understood why.

By some weird logic, she watched the entire season of actor Arya’s show on finding a bride and was truly pissed when he did not choose anyone. I still remember the curse words she hurled at him at the end of the show. 

“He did not like anyone. What is he supposed to do?” I asked.

“What if a girl had done the same thing? Would anyone have been quiet?” she snapped. 

And I proudly accepted defeat.

She is a stern woman with strong opinions. I have seen a lot of people coming to her with their problems. More than the solutions, it is the confidence that they confide in. She talks in such a way that the person would find so much courage to deal with whatever they have on their plates. It is not the “over-the-top motivation-speaker” type, but the “thug” type that lets you handle your problem with ease. She lived by her words and was never scared of anything or anyone. It is a shame that I could not fully inherit it from her.

It would be an understatement to say that my mom raised three daughters. Indeed, all her siblings would accept if I say she raised all her younger siblings. They used to have a “house annual day” organized every year where each one of her siblings would do some performance (dance or song). And she made her parents the judges for the day. My chithis and mama still talk about it. Never understood where she gets such ideas. Truly, she is one of a kind!

Growing up, my mom would keep saying that we have to study hard so that we don’t become like her. But I have always wanted to be like her. She is a successful woman, and we could not be more proud of her.