Monday, November 15, 2010

Mum's the Word

MUM’S THE WORD!
The October issue of the Reader’s Digest had an interesting snippet on de-stressing by talking to one’s mother. It was about a new US study in which girls aged between 7 and 12 years had to make a speech and solve Math problems in front of a panel of strangers, which sent their levels of Cortisol, a hormone associated with stress, soaring. Immediately afterwards, 1/3 was comforted by their mothers in person, another 1/3 got phone calls from their mothers while the remaining was made to watch an ‘emotionally neutral’ video. It was found that the Cortisol levels of those who interacted with their mothers , either in person or on phone, came down to normal levels while the levels of Oxytocin, or ‘love hormone’ increased significantly.
I read this snippet at a time when I was in an extremely vulnerable, emotional phase. Two or three days back, I had rung my Mom up just to know how she was. She had had a left ventricular failure recently. I, like all my siblings, was very concerned about her health and kept checking her out frequently. I think I caught her on one of her rare ‘bad hair days’ and was informed by my nephew that she did not wish to talk to me. This meant either she was in pain or she had fought with my Dad. My panicky self immediately concluded on the former and I insisted to my nephew that he hand the phone over to her so that I could find out what was distressing her. Then my nephew told me that she had refused breakfast and her medicines. This upset me. I made him hand the phone over to her and started blitzing her about why she was refusing to eat and take medicines. She listened for a minute and then said in a cold voice, “ Stop boring me!” It was like a cold slap on my face. In a state of shock I cut the call.
Now, I really don’t remember when I had last fought with my mother. I must have. I used to…when I was a child. I remember being pinched by her for transgressions unacceptable to her. But that was way back like in my pre-teen years. In my teens may be she might have yelled at me for being lazy or sloppy, nothing worth registering in my brain or altering my psyche. In fact, as far back as I can remember, we had great rapport. Though I was Daddy’s girl, as I grew up, I started feeling closer to Mom, relating better to her than to my stentorian Dad. The closeness increased after I married, became a mother to twins and as both of us advanced in years. We giggled, laughed, tut- tutted and ranted on common issues… we read and discussed books, solved crossword puzzles and enjoyed the same genres of movies and serials… Naturally her words were like a bolt from the blue and it struck me down emotionally.
The words by themselves were not significant…’Don’t bore me!’ Nothing offensive or abusive there, right? Then why was I devastated? I just could not forget that icy tone. It was like emptying a bucket of cold slush on my head… it kept dripping all around me…”Don’t bore me”, “ Don’t bore me”, “Don’t bore me” it went on and on, making me go crazy and cranky. Crankier I got as hours lapsed into days. Mutinously, I refused to call her again. The next move had to come from her, I kept telling myself. She has to extend the olive branch, I told my better sense which kept chiding me for being childish and churlish.

A couple of days later, my brother called me to know if all’s well with me. When I affirmed, he asked me then why I had not called in 48 hours. I hemmed and hawed not wanting to disclose anything. Then my sister called and asked point blank if anything had happened between me and Mom. I asked her why she should ask me such a thing. She said she got a call from Mom asking if I had called. Was anything wrong between the two of us? I categorically denied that anything was wrong. Should have known better. She is my sister and knows how to read between the lines. Soon I had to make a clean breast of it all and at the end of it I felt silly even to my own ears. Sensible Sis said, “ Come on… she had obviously had a spat with Dad and was sulking. You just caught her at one of her rare bad moods… Now don’t you sulk!” I told her I was not sulking. Nor was I paying her back. I just was in limbo surrounded by echoing pings of “ Don’t bore me!” as bubbles burst around my ears constantly.
Three days… for three days, I brooded, hugging my hurt close to my heart and letting Misery envelope me in a bearhug suffocating me. No one around me had any inkling about what I was going through and all my daily chores were carried on mechanically. All? Well! All except my daily calls to Mom who had literally become ‘mum’ to me! I had surprisingly lost weight. well… my weight loss may not have been caused by the turn of events, but I chose that day to gather courage to stand on that contraption called weighing scale and glance down diffidently… Yahoo! I really had reduced. The fact that it might have been the daily brisk one hour walk that had caused this change never occurred to me then. I thought it was caused by mental trauma.
“Mental trauma? Poppycock!” scoffed my better sense. Nothing dramatic had happened. I had just caught my Mom in a bad mood. Why was I making a bloody mountain out of a mere molehill? Wasn’t I acting petty and childish? Not wanting to agree to my conscience, I flipped through the latest issue of Reader’s Digest. “ Connecting to mother love- any way you can” said the heading and I read the snippet. Tears filled my eyes. I remembered all those times she had soothed and shushed my fears and tears away… when I had used to her shoulders to cry, to rest my head and sigh… the hugs that uncoiled my tensed up muscles… and she has one bad moment and I hold her at emotional gunpoint! Talk about selfishness!
I remembered that in geometry every theorem had a corollary… so if mother’s love could reduce the levels of Cortisol in a child, shouldn’t a child’s love for her mom relieve the mother’s stress in return?
The syllogism was so lucid. Everything fell into place in my head, heart and mind. Feeling small, I reached for my cellphone and dialed her number.
“ Hello?” came her voice. I could feel tension and anticipation, dread and anxiety in her voice. At that moment I would have given anything to undo the trauma I realized I might have put her through in the last three or four days. “ How are you Mom?” I said. “ Missed you,” she said. “Me too,” I said. “ Do you know that a phone call from one’s Mom can de-stress a child? It is in the latest issue of Readers’ Digest, and do you know I have lost weight?” Words tumbled out as did Cortisol and I felt calmer and happier than I had been for some time.
“In the last three days?” she said, laughing. And I laughed too… at the absurdity of my logic. Things were fine between us. No reproachful words…no apologies…
“ God’s in his Heaven and all’s right with the world” my heart sang. Right Here, Right Now… Reader’s Digest, I agree with the findings of the US study. Should I write to Mohan Sivanand endorsing the news or should I find out the research group in the US and congratulate them? Well, before I could, things started happening and I forgot all about it. This morning I was flipping through the RD October edition and came across the snippet and everything came rushing back… Instead I decided to blog. Must call Mum and ask her to read this …so that we can laugh over this as well!