The exams, the clouds and the blue sky

                                                                                    

                                         

                                                              

           Looking wistfully  out of the window at the floating clouds gathering in the blue sky, the Whatsapp ping brought me back gently to the room. Just as I cajoled my nine year old's wandering mind back to her Hindi matras and it's quirky grammar. The joke that was doing the rounds, was for all the mothers whose children were taking the exams for the year. Especially the ones, who were appearing for the first time. 

                    The after effects of exams on a mother. 

                     A woman goes into a restaurant and for the life of her cannot remember  the word                           'menu'.

                     So, she calls the waiter and tells him

                     "Please get me the syllabus of this place..."

                     I had decided earlier on that I would not lose my 'cool' mother status to the frets of an over zealous one. I thought it was made amply clear to both my school going girls that their studies was their responsibility and not mine. That I would not be the one to pounce on their notebooks the moment they arrived from school to check for incomplete and unchecked work. If they were stuck in their understanding of the concepts, they would be helped but not to complete their homework and other such things. That the number of  hours they studied and when they studied,  was their business. If they brought in less  grades it was theirs to face and if they brought in good ones, they would take the credit. 

                    Having drummed my Commandments into their heads on numerous occasions,  I thought I was relatively free from the travails assailing other proxy- student - mothers. I had no intentions of waking up at ungodly hours so they could benefit from the 'freshness' of the divine hour. Nor was the the idea of revisiting the mensuration, algebraic expressions, the golgi bodies in a terrific combo with  the Northern Plains, photosynthesis and four digit multiplication, a particularly alluring situation. That lasted till the exam schedule arrived. Curling up with a novel, my ears strained for the sounds of two reading voices. And if one of them stopped, the third one would pitch in shrilly

        "What are you doing there? Are you finished with the lesson?"

         "No, I went to the washroom."

         "You seem to be doing that a lot more ever since  that schedule arrived..."

         "Arey! What can I do if it comes?"

         Glare. Glares back. Glare again till she slinks back into the study hole. 

Now I plonk myself in their room. With the novel whose protagonist is facing a dire situation compounded by a bleak past.  The  pages of which I am reading repeatedly.  From the corner of my eye, I can see them escaping into their  imaginary world, conversing and smiling at imaginary characters. I let them for a while. And then, they are brought back.

             "Are you done? Can I take a test now?"

         The exams are on. I catch myself looking out of the window more often now. There is a request to wake them up at 4.30 in the morning for a particular exam. So I set the alarm for 4.15 knowing that there would be pleas for 'two minutes more', 'five minutes more'... So dutifully I get up even before the alarm goes off and coax them out of their slumber. They refuse point blank. 

         "I thought you had to study!"

         "No, I want to sleep now..." she slurred and went back to snoring. 

And I walked around the silent house, wide awake, having lost the ability to sleep anytime anywhere with age. The next time the request came in, I gave her the alarm and a piece of my mind with a rejoinder

   "Do not wake me up!"

Why is sleep such a precious commodity especially when the exams are on? I drifted back to my own days when I was caught napping having slid down from a sitting position with a book on my chest. Thank God for the book! My father peeped into the silent room.

"So, you are sleeping, eh?"

Without losing a second from my light sleep and with my eyes still closed, I replied to the distant voice,

"No, I am thinking..."

Taken in by the instant reply without turning a hair (that had even me flummoxed), I was spared from a dressing down. The next time he found me in the same position, he posed,

"So, you thinking again?"

"No. I am sleeping now..." 

This was also around the time when I discovered that I had this ability to sleep with my eyes open. This was also the time when the tufts of clouds bewitched me with their tantalising ever changing shapes, freely floating in the blue sky.

How enigmatic and sweet that elusive sleep was! Especially during the winters when the warm quilt seduced with the promise of a snug siesta as the  gentle afternoon sun streamed in through the window. And those bobbing leaves and the drifting clouds ( yes, those damn clouds again!) lulled one into drowsiness. I could almost write an ode to it!

     "What's there to eat now, Ma? I am hungry."

     And with that I come back to balancing the chemical equations wondering from where those extra molecules appeared on the other side.

       "You just had breakfast an hour back!"

       "So, I am hungry now. And don't give me those oats!"

     From the equations, I go to the kitchen to rummage through the shelves trying to remember hard if I could rustle up something that would not take more than ten minutes. Lesser, if I could help it. That's another added hassle during exams. Dishing out something 'nice' to eat  every one hour that would appeal to the two different sets of taste buds.  

     So, here we are. The three of us looking at the red circled 'last exam date' on the calender, striking off the ones we are done with, with a vengeance. Till then two pairs of eyes look out longingly through the window. And without their knowledge a third pair looks out over their heads, at those drifting clouds across the blue sky... 

           

     

                     

          

Basket Of Mint Leaves

                                                 

Courtesy Shutterstock

        She tottered out into the garden donning a sun hat and a wicker basket in hand. The afternoon sun beat down intensely turning her cheeks crimson. But she hardly noticed it. There was a task at hand. Making her way towards the patch where she had watched the mint being planted she surveyed the little garden with a smile. Sitting on her haunches she plucked the big leaves from the bottom of the mint stem and the tip so more would grow.She was careful not to concentrate her harvest on just one part of the patch. Tiny insects crawled in and out of the mint bed. It looked like a different world altogether. Perhaps these small stems were actually big trees and and maybe some people lived here unknown to others.

   

         She next inched towards the tomato plants and plucked two ripe ones. That's all she wanted and that's all she took.  She liked rubbing the tomato leaves. It gave out a fresh tomatoish smell that made her happy. She saw a few specks of red on the leaves and bent down to have a closer look. Oh! These were ladybirds! How beautiful they looked against the green of the leaves! From the corner of her eyes she saw the pea climber, from where those plump pea pods beckoned her. Unable to resist  she took a couple of them, pressed open the pods and popped them into her mouth. How sweet they were and how fresh! Especially after all those frozen vegetables they have had for the winters.

           Winters in Sharifabad could get cold. Very cold.There was no water also in the tap.And that bothered her a lot. The snow stayed on for weeks together that made her stay indoors most of the times. She hated it. Not the snow. She hated not being able to go out. The others in the house kicked up quite a ruckus when they found she had sneaked out.She had her way though. They let her go out  late in the afternoon for sometime. She loved making those little mounds with the snow. Why she even made a snowman once!

       That was winter fun. This was the summers. She watched the colourful dog flowers sway in the breeze under that tree. Yellow, pink, purple. It looked like they were talking and giggling among themselves while the sunshine calendulas looked on from the window sill. The flowers and their different colours delighted her.She could watch them for a long time letting herself drift into a beautiful world...Oh! But she must get on! There was  work to be done before he came home. 

        She snatched herself back and made her way into the house clutching the basket of mint leaves and two tomatoes. She carefully crossed the drain that separated the tiny kitchen garden from the tinier lawn and flower beds. Walking into the kitchen, she found the grinder just the way she liked. Pulling out a stool from under the sink she climbed on it to rinse the mint leaves. Once, twice and thrice.The kitchen started smelling of mint leaves. How lovely! Next she cleaned those ripe big tomatoes. She pulled the stool towards the grinder. She assembled the mint leaves, the garlic pods and one whole chilli in the grinder. She carefully cut the tomatoes into big pieces like it was shown and added them to the others. Sprinkling some salt and closing the lid she switched on the grinder and let it work mixing all the things inside nicely. She switched it off and smeared her finger tip with some of the greenish paste. Oho! Some more salt needs to go in. The grinder was at work again, whirring and grinding and mixing. There it was perfect now just like last time, she thought smacking some from her finger tip. 

        Just then the doorbell rang. 

" What's little Pahi doing today?" smiled her father as he walked in.

" She's got a surprise for you" said her mother walking out of the bedroom with the phone in one hand. 

 " Here Pahi, grandma wants to know the recipe for the mint chutney" said her mother.

" Ma, did you tell her about it?"

" Yes, I did. And she says you must teach her to make it."

" Hello aita! Yes I am fine...don't you know how to make it?...oh okay! First wear a hat and take a basket. Then go to the garden and pluck some mint leaves. You may find some ladybirds sitting on them but it's okay...."

    Mother smiled as she overheard the conversation between the grandmother and the grand daughter. Getting the pakodas ready to go with the tea she lovingly poured the mint chutney into a bowl. The doorbell rang again.

" Aunty, can Pahi come and play with us. We are carrying some snacks with us and going to that place under the almond trees."

" Of course she'll come! Let me also pack something for you." Mother turned around and called out,

 "Pahi, your friends are here! Did you finish your five sentences on 'myself ' ?"

" Can I do it in the evening?" asked Pahi with anxious eyes.

" Okay. Just don't get delayed. And don't eat too many of those green apples from the trees" cautioned her mother. Handing over some packed pakodas and the mint chutney, she saw them off.

        It was a blessing to be here in Sharifabad. There was no mall, no fast food joint, nothing of the cities. But there was abundance of nature unadulterated. The snow clad Himalayan peaks glistened in the distance. The only road, one kilometer in length, cut across the the small garrison. Children played under the peach blossoms, white almond blossoms, climbed the short apple trees to pluck those sour green ones. Under the clear blue skies, sometimes dotted with tufts of clouds they noticed the flowering grass and the wild flowers. They relished the tangy grape leaves , the sunshine, the snow covered days, the slushy roads of the melting snow and the tingling fresh air that gave them all a ruddy complexion. It was a childhood they would all remember and draw strength from. Haven't happy memories of childhood refreshed all, bringing a whiff of freshness? Just like a basket full of mint leaves.



This post was written for Nature's Friend with Indiblogger
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