Like every other evening, he sprung
the door open, and casting a rehearsed smile my way, darted his eyes to meet the
kid’s, who was sitting in a wreckage of toys and blocks, lost, squinting at a
piece of paper. Surprising her from the back, he grabbed her by her shoulder
and tossed her up, her few seconds’ shock broke into irresistible giggles while
the pleased father laughed and kissed and broke into childish gibberish. Then
suddenly, without moving his eyes from the kid, he said, “Today is Fathers’ Day
it seems.”
At this utterance, me, the
clueless, hapless wife, marveling at my ill-knowledge, said a hasty sorry
(evidently guilty for slacking so bad), and really meant it. If not anything a
cake could still have been managed. One of those up-my-alleys lately, now that
finally I am close to calling myself a pro-level oven operator. But how did I
forget? Actually, how did I not even know? I had no clue! It’s strange how even
social media managed to mask it this time. I came across barely a simmering of
celebration here and there (that too without any clarity on the date), vis-a-vis
the full-blown ones around Mother’s day. Good Lord! Do I even need to remind
you of the mad euphoria? Then why do the Fathers’ Day not match up to the same
levels of excitement? I could be wrong here, or my social media scurrying could
have been particularly abysmal today, but I still think Fathers’ Day celebration
is a rather low-key affair, would you agree? Whereas, mothers are celebrated
twice (British and American dates), and the opportunist fence sitters like me,
who are neither here nor there, or over both, never shy to lap them up both.
But then it is not entirely true. Infact, the kid’s dad, to redeem me of my
guilt, responding to my sorry, said, “but we didn’t do anything for your day
too.” And he was right. But, why didn’t we? As these thoughts lingered and the
tea in the kettle next to me bubbled away, I lifted my phone out of habit and while
soaking some social media, summoned who else but Google guru(since I was not
entirely convinced about the date).....and there! I was right! Fathers’ Day was
still a day away! Not being able to decide whether to take the husband up for
the false alarm or to thank my luck, we sat down with mugs of tea, and my mind
drifted to what could be done on the day...
But not before I tell you why Mothers’
Day was also...well...nothing extraordinary. Especially when every second advertisement
that runs across our screens yell about some spread, some wine, and fine dine, staycations
and sales and discounts and what have you.....May be because I am permanently
fatigued, and distracted, or both, and any form of outing that requires me to
bother about my messy bun is well....bothersome. Following which the thought of
the whole deal of painstakingly picking a place, then making reservations, and
then dress up, then dress the kid and once at the table after finally claiming
it, the heaving high chair bearing the weight of a particularly restless
toddler, then the scanning through the menu and ordering in as less time as
possible, one eye fixed on the kid, after having wiped off the cutleries from her
sight, then a spill here, a splatter there, and then a brazen cry.... the list
goes on. So Yes. That’s why. That’s exactly why the food invariably gets
ordered and delivered at home, and if they do not deliver, we climb in the car,
in barely respectable clothes, strapping the kid, off we go and bring Chinese
food from dodgy places that tastes just as fabulous, and once home, we
ravenously wolf it down in minutes. I like this kind of Mothers’ Day - when I am
truly grateful for everything but can so do not celebrating it in a way that
makes me feel bad about my destressed hair, by choppy make-up, my ill-fitting
dress... One might say but isn’t that the whole point? Of giving yourself the much-deserved
pampering and break? I suppose it is, but as far as I go, even that would have
to wait for the time being.
Then what do I do for my parents
on these occasions you ask? Well, I am hardly the kind who wears her emotions
on sleeve. I am taciturn that way, emotionally. Keeping true to the early 90’s
kid’s existence on whom importance of such days are...kind of lost, I barely manage
to send a shy ‘Happy Mothers’/Fathers’ Day’ message, striking just the right
balance between genuine and cheesy. To which they, I would imagine, break into
a smile, and push a ‘thank you’, complimenting my terseness, but the emotion
never failing to get delivered. No
cakes, no flowers, no hotel and restaurant reservations, I mean there’s no
harm, I don’t turn up my nose to it, but minimal is good, comfort is key. And
luckily the partner in crime, shares just the equal degree of nonchalance when it
comes to such occasions, totally living up to my expectations. So I am guessing
it will have to be a Korean to-go tonight then, something highly pleasing to
his taste buds, and just a heartfelt thank you may be, not in words, ofcourse
not, just in smiles and sighs....
