Today, I watched The Terminal with my twin sons. We started at lunch and finished around 3.45.Another wonderful memory to cherish. My cup of joy is on a perpetual overflow these days. After 8 years, I am able to give quality time to my holidaying sons. we relish watching MASH, A Team or Everybody Loves Raymond, chatting about their life in the engineering college, their dreams, their frustrations etc, etc... There are jokes, chuckles, hugs, smooches, a lot of teasing and a lot of loving... As I run my fingers through the hair of my strapping 21 year old son leaning against my knees as I snuggle upto another strapping young man next to me on the sofa, I think -- realize-- God has been kind to me! Oh, so kind. The umbilical cords that were snipped 21 years have been replaced by some other invisible threads. I guess they are called heartstrings. Nothing simple about these. They are full of knots, each representing a joyous memory or a cherished event in our lives. When tugged, they trigger a sweet pain all over my heart.
Watching a movie with them is only an extension of what we used to do while they were growing up. Whoever heard of kids being sung to sleep with ragamalikai like 'Karpagavalli nin' or Raj Kapoor hits like 'Pyar hua, ikraar hua'? Telling them endless stories -- 'Kuruvi kathai' to ' Ali Baba' , going through the family albums, picture dictionaries and junior encyclopaedias again and again, watching cartoons with them and reading to them Russian books like 'When Daddy Was A Little Boy' and reading with them Tin Tins, Asterixes and these days the paperbacks, The Week and watching football -- tolerating funny hairdos or lack thereof of their favourite sportsmen... 21 years...
Nope! Not 21 fully. I lost out on the last 8 years. The most crucial years of their development as young men when they were sent to a residential school in Mysore and the Engg. College in Coimbatore. During these 8 years, the few weeks of vacation turned out to be so precious. For 7 years, they never complained when as a working mom, I'd be too busy correcting endless notes and test papers. They'd offer to do the household chores for me -- washing dishes, drying clothes and vacuuming so that I can finish fast and spend some time with them. They have never lost their temper with me. Never once disobeyed or defied me. I am scared...at times.
All their secrets, fears and doubts, I share. I have tried my best to never to say 'I told you so' or 'Why did you...' I have been very frank and open with them as they have been to me. Their respect for their father, their love for us both, their friendliness and self control... I hope all these continue for a long, long time.
They are anything but goody- goodies. I know all the scrapes they get into. But there is some basic goodness in them... certain pride in their heritage, their sense of right and wrong, their indianness, their familial bonding that ought to see them through safely in this world. Another six months and they start working...earning, spending, making big decisions about their lives. And RP and I... we shall stand side by side and smile at them and at each other. May be we'll pat each other's back. And thank God for having blessed the two of us with two premature scrawny twins 21 years back.
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