Yes mumma

Knee high socks, hair tortured into plates skewered

with ribbons, drinking milk blemished with ghee
bubbles, eating vegetables that squished in the
mouth so went a childhood oscillating between a
do and a dont, a slap and a pat, between a
giggle and a tear.
Ive always resented being a party piece for a
roomful of bulged eyeballs and hooked smiles, with
a cherry on the top being , time and again forced
to mutter namaste uncle namaste aunty.
Whooff! What a pity! I seriously dont understand
what ecstatic joy does the parents and the visitors
share in hearing the epic adventures of their kids.
The euphoric choirs sound like some Hollywood
story being narrated. Just contrary to it we children
never amuse ourselves discussing our parents
chronicles.
It is pretty common to hear our moms whining
about the sleepless nights they spent nursing us,
cleaning our poos, watching over us like hawks
blah blah all this recurrent whining sometimes
makes us forget how touched we felt when mom
narrated with bleary and dazed eyes she would
awaken to find my eyes shut, so I keep my fingers
crossed as slowly I tiptoed away.
Shift focus to the present mom

We dont want gate crashers to our slumber party.

We no longer like being watched over like a hawk
and hear a persistent drone of whats good for us.
We hate when we have to gag our way through a
glass of milk and also when we are scolded on the
state of our cupboards. Your so called pigsties are
our rooms and what you call dumpsters are our
beds. As for a girl the parents skulk around the
house eavesdropping on her telephone
conversations and throwing frenzy convinced shes
talking to a BOY.
Soon a time will come when suitable spouse
material would be searched for us. Applications
would be invited and resumes be scrutinized. All
candidates would go down in history on having
postmortems performed on them while still being
alive.
If by chance we urge to go to abroad for higher
studies, our parents would have the nightmares of
us falling in the love trap of some alien Casanova.
As if the cupid is having some preferential
prejudice against their daughter only and has
spared loads of time to make her love life. Wow!!
I swore to my mom that when I became a mother, I
will let my children run wild allow them to muck
around in mud, get wet in the rain, dig their pearly
whites into gooey chocolates and then go to sleep
with the taste still lingering in the mouth rather

than in the mind. Of course I did get my moms

sarcastic ridicule over it. But still never mind.
Lets see what future has in store for us. Till then
lets continue with yes mumma yes papa
Priyanka Attri.