( Anika )
I smiled looking at the kids whose faces suddenly were glowing. Their radiating smiles brought me peace. Soon I was surrounded by them.
"No fighting. There are plenty. Each gets one. Now, what had I taught you all the last time we met?"
The kids hurried back to their places and settled silently. The teacher smiled at me surprised, walking over to help me with the huge goody snack I had brought. The NGO I spent my free time with had assigned each of us, volunteers, to schools where underprivileged children were taught for free. I couldn't blame them for their greedy attitude. They had never seen so many snacks all at one time except on the television screens of the shops or the projector in the old ground that went up every Sunday screening the 80s or 90s movie. On the occasion of Children's day, we had kept a Manners Week in such schools. Today, being the last but one day. There was a medical camp set up following the distribution of some goods.
As I announced the results of the various activities we had carried out during the week I handed each of them a goody packet. I was proud to see that they put what they had learned into use.
Life was too short to waste. There was so much to do. My bucket list was never-ending. Rightly said it was, "each one of us can make a difference in our own unique ways." My lips settled to an unfading curve as I saw the kids chattering and beaming with joy. I looked at Seema, the teacher, as she patted my arm. "Yeah."
"Your phone Ma'am." She uttered.
"Anika!" I corrected her reaching for my phone. "Yes Boss, tell me," I spoke hearing my mother's voice at the other end. "Don't worry boss, I will be on time. Yes, I will collect it. At two-thirty right? Don't worry. Consider it done. Why fear, when Anika is here? Okay bye."
Today's day had been hectic. From collecting the goodies to reaching the school on time. I left the premises not wanting to be late at the tailor's. My mother had asked me to pick up a dress she had given for alteration. I was out on my way passing the filed when I saw a few teenage boys playing cricket. Oh, it would be a pity to miss out on the fun. Tying my dupatta aside I ran towards them. They giggled but allowed me to play. I smirked. I suppose they assumed like half the ample population in India, that women don't play cricket. One of them came up to me happily handing me the bat. I concealed my mirth looking at the boys exchanging playful glances.
The first ball I missed on purpose gauging the boy's style. On the next, I took two runs. The third went for a six. The fourth went for a four. They looked on shocked while a few, the ones in my team clapped. By the end of two overs, I had made twenty-two runs and was still not out. I would have played if it wasn't the call from the tailor. I ran out of the ground handing the bat back and screaming a goodbye. Oh God! I had to reach the tailor before he closed his shop and left for his hometown. If I didn't I was sure to get roasted for my ways at home, which pretty much happens every other day!
* * *
I reached home by five. My mother broke the news of seeing a guy. Not again. I had seen three. None were the sort I could think of spending my entire life with. Honestly, the idea of marriage didn't settle well with me although I wasn't immune to it altogether.
"Is marriage necessary?" I ignited the same old debate again. We do that don't we. Bring out the old topic again in the hope that the conversation would go our way for once.
"We all need someone by our side at some point in our life. Trust me, it's a pain to get old all alone."
"Whose becoming old Maa? I feel that word, shouldn't be used for humans. Old is a state of mind, my sweetheart. Not body."
"Oh, shut up. " My mother muttered. Typical!
"Then, is that it, the one reason?"
"No...how will you have kids if you don't marry? Having kids, having a family is the best thing, you know. " saying that she pressed a kiss against my cheek and I smiled hugging her.
"You miss Papa, don't you?" I asked her despite knowing the answer. My arms around her shoulder.
She smiled. "I do. That man ...I will see him when I go up to where he is. No one will be able to save him from me, up there."
I laughed. Mourning was never our thing. Every time we remembered Paa, the two of us only laughed. The way he had always wanted us to. Papa's life was the best kind. By thirty-five he had made more than enough money to survive a lifetime. He took retirement at forty and permanent retirement from life at fifty due to a cardiac arrest. He was in the Indian Navy and I was proud of him. As a family, we strongly believed that death was an event that gave one freedom from the karmic cycle. Though initially, things were hard, soon enough they settled in place. Mom was a superwoman without a cape!
"Okay, as for kids. I am only a kid. But to satisfy your point. I can adopt kids or even own an orphanage. There goes your point about kids and family into the fire." I got back to the debate.
My mother smacked her forehead and I giggled. "After marriage, you'll understand the bliss!" I stared at her, with slight discomfort. Bliss? Is she referring to the sex that came with marriage? Never mind. Wonder why the majority of the human population is obsessed with the idea of intercourse! There was so much more to life than lust.
"Whatever...!" I rolled my eyes. "How's this?" I asked holding a kurti and pinning it against my shoulder.
"Naa. Wear the red one. You look nice in that."
"This is stupid. If I look extra nice then he might say yes for that and not for who I am." I argued.
"Shut up. Haven't you heard? The first impression is the last. When I was your age...no by that time .....you were two years old..." She corrected herself. "When I was twenty, I and my friends used to dress up every day like..."
"Oh, please. That's so stupid. Looking pretty isn't all life is about." I shook my head in disapproval.
"Miss Anika Talwar, if you've got to get a good looking guy you need to look pretty. That's the bitter truth, up to you to accept it or not!"
"Mrs. Harsh Talwar, Seriously?" I rolled my eyes.
"Of course." She said picking the red dress.
I stared at her. She was so enthusiastic about this entire arranged marriage fiasco. "Mom, why don't you also try for another marriage?" I asked hiding my smirk.
"Beta. You don't want roasted ladyfingers for breakfast tomorrow. Do you?" She asked sweetly. Typical her.
I made. face. She always cheated. She knew food was such an integral part of my life. Those three times I ate. The three most important tasks every day – Breakfast, Lunch Dinner. She couldn't spoil those for me.
"Once you're married I will go to Haridwar and stay happily till death comes knocking." She sighed clapping her hands together.
"So boring. Trust me, travel the world, meet different people, make a boyfriend if you want. There's just one life, don't waste all of it at one place sticking to one routine. I am not kidding Maa, even if Paa was here he'd say the same. Travel, See the world... Taste your freedom. See where your appetite takes you, there ..you'll find your happily ever after."
She smiled at me. "I will consider that but, right now you should get ready. I don't want you to reach late. The guy is handsome and I think the two of you would look great together. "
"Why don't you just show me the picture?" I asked for the third time that evening.
"I know. You'll try your silly ways of testing him. I am your mother. This time things are going as per my supervision. So Miss Talwar, get ready and go. I will text you the table number once you get there. I have already sent your photo to the guy's mother. So, I think he would've seen too."
"Right. All mothers don't ask their children to do blind arranged marriage dates." I taunted.
"This isn't a date, Anu, it's a dinner meeting. And it's not blind. I've seen him. I have done a background check on him. "
"Jyoti aunty?" I asked knowing that mom's that specific friend was powerful enough to get detailed bio-data including criminal cases and legal pursuits. She was the wife of The Rathore who was a well known criminal lawyer.
"Yes. Get ready!" She said leaving my room. I sighed, smiling. Mom was still a young girl at heart. No wonder, dad loved her so much. She was pretty too. Also, she cooked well. No matter what, I would never be as wonderful as my mother is. She still looked so young and pretty. Ever since I was in high school, I was always told that I and she looked like sisters. I was always proud of that. All my friends fanned my mother. She was goals. I looked at my face in the mirror. How I wish I had the glow my mother always had!
* * *
Wearing the tight-fitting deep red Kurti, that felt like my second skin, I made my way down the footpath to the restaurant. I looked around to make sure no one was looking at me and made an attempt to pull up my kurti's neckline. I hated wide necks that plunged deep. That's one reason why I hated tailored kurti. They got so perfect, hugging me like second skin. It made me too conscious of my own curves. Mumma loved that. Of course in her opinion, a woman must righteously celebrate her femininity. Curves, I suppose are a part of that package!
I took a deep breath as I reached the entrance of the restaurant. I called Mumma. She didn't pick up. A message popped up. Wow! Modern mothers! I quickly read the message and looked up.
Table seven, here I come.
This part had more heart put into it than the mind.
The character of Anika's mother takes "inspiration" from my mother.❤
Hope you all liked it.
Let's make this a more interactive book. Share any one trait of your mother that's unique or you admire. For me, it has to be the fact that she is so adaptable and jaunty!
Next Friday, what do you think will happen at table number seven?
– Anami!♡