Day 68. When I woke up today, it was nice and sunny and instantly made up my mind to wear a sari. It had been three days since I wore one and I was missing her, even going into withdrawal symptoms! But by the time I was getting ready for work, it had started raining. I wasn’t ready to give up though and decided to bring out one of the few crepes/georgettes that I have. This pink crepe was a Puja gift from Ma a few years ago. I wore it for the first time on her 60th birthday, when I threw her a surprise party.
With weeks to go before Ma’s 60th, I was wracking my brain on how to make it a special one. As gifts of all sizes and prices were considered and discarded because they were just not good enough, it suddenly struck me… She would like nothing better than spending the day with people she loved, people who mattered to her. Yes, that’s definitely what she would like the most, something that would make her happy. Unsure about whether I would be able to pull it off and undecided about the scale of surprise, I nevertheless sent off an email to her brothers and sistee (Boromamu and Mimi in Houston…what’s there not to dream?…., Mamu-Mami in Baramati, Matu in Mumbai). Fingers crossed, I waited for the responses. It was not much less tense than the wait
after a job intrerview.
Finally, I got a positive reply. Mami said she would come. There, I had a start. Next up was getting Ma’s colleagues together. School was, after all, Ma’s life. Her second home. A world she had made her own. This was the most difficult part but I finally found a way. Scrolling through the contacts list on my phone, I found the number of one of her colleagues Pompa Mashi and I quickly dialled her number. From compiling a list with contact numbers to warning me who was the most likely to spill the beans (inadvertently of course), without her it would not have been possible. The rest of the invitations were a breeze…my aunts, uncles, cousins and Ma’s childhood friend. Most of them agreed to come and join the fun and I reminded everyone for the nth time that it was to be a surprise. At home, my concern was my mother–in-law with who Ma shares great camaraderie, as also an affinity to letting out (harmless) secrets, and every day I would warn her against any faux-pas. The only one keeping me guessing was my Matu. Will she? Won’t she?
By the time Ma’s birthday week, I had become a pro at devious plans to keep the secret. A couple of days before my Ma’s birthday I told her I planned to take an off from work on her birthday. I would take her out for dinner, I promised her. So, the plan was set. we (me and my husband) would take her out and instead of going to the restaurant we would land up at the venue (my mamabari) on the pretext of picking up my cousin, who would conveniently say that he wasn’t ready yet and if we could come up and wait. Mami arrived a couple of days in advance and requested me to go over in the morning to help her get the house ready, Now, I had a problem. Knowing that I had the day off, Ma had asked me to spend the day with her. So, another story had to be concocted. At midnight, when we (me, Achintya, my brother-in-law and sister-in-law) arrived at her home) to bring in her birthday – that was surprise no. 1 – with a cake baked by me, I told her I would have to go to office the next day but would be back by afternoon and that the dinner plan would remain unaltered. She believed me and I let out a secret sigh of relief. My second. The first came earlier in the day, accompanied by a whoop of joy, that Matu would come. Yes, she would.
The next morning was spent helping Mami clean the house, coordinating with the caterer, ensuring that the cake was delivered on time and finally rustling up a salad (for which we had to make a quick trip to Spencer’s. And while I was picking a bottle of mayo, Ma called and I told her I was in the middle of work. All done, when I rushed home, I barely hadd the time to drape this sari and head to pick up Ma.
By the time we had settled into the car, I was in for fresh trouble. Constant calls for directions to the venue. I took to texting furiously while the rest kept Ma busy in conversation. As we stopped the car in front of Mami’s home, I called up my cousin and asked him to “come down”. The conversation went something like this….Me: Ishan, we are here. Come down. Ishan (on the other side): Silence, followed by laughter. Me: Oh you aren’t ready yet? How long will it take? Ishan: Laughter again (He wasn’t making it any easier for me). Me: Ok, get ready quick, we will come up and wait. I disconnected the call but before I could say anything, Ma had already started off. “Why can’t he be on time? We have a reservation. He can come on his own.” Poor Ishan, I thought. Aloud, I said, let’s go up and wait. “No, let’s wait here,” said Ma. Some pleading later, I managed to convince her to get off the car.
I followed her and froze. Who were those just across the road? Weren’t they my mother’s colleagues? Ma would see them any moment and then it would be so near, yet so far. I couldn’t believe it that I had pulled it off for so long and it would all be ruined at the last moment. Not like this, no.
What happened next is quite unbelievable. Ma spotted them and, though surprised, didn’t for a moment think what the three of them could be doing there together. Instead, she ushered them in, excitedly showing them her mother’s home. I followed them in disbelief as Ma’s friends giggled like schoolgirls, trying unsuccessfully to check themselves. With every step I took, I kept thinking Ma would turn back any moment and ask what was happening. But she didn’t. She seemed to be in some kind of a reverie. As we reached the door, which was ajar and the room inside dark, she called out to my cousin to switch on the lights. He stepped out of the darkness, smiling, and wished Ma but made no attempt to switch on the lights. Exasperated, and scolding him all the while, Ma made her way towards the drawing room. As she switched on the light, she let out a gasp. The room was full of her colleagues. That’s when it dawned on her but she couldn’t yet gauge the extent of surprise that was in store for her. I led her to the next room where more family members were waiting. But the icing on the cake deservedly came from the kitchen, where Mami and Matu had been hiding. Each time a face was revealed, a surprise was unwrapped, Ma would let out an exclamation and her face lit up (as my eyes stung) and there would follow a chorus of laughter, led by that fullthroated laughter of Keya Mami. The two of them (Ma and Keya Mami), friends since college days or earlier, had been known for their loud, reverberating laughter so much so that when Ma would go downstairs to Keya Mami’s home for some adda, her beloved pet dogs upstairs would get all restless every time they heard that familiar ring and then my Boromamu would put one of them into a nylon bag tied to a rope and slowly send it down! Most of those who know Ma know her laugh. And I do too and often tell her ‘I am not sitting next to you’ when we go for a movie, especially if it’s anywhere close to a comedy. But that day the laughter was music, it filled the house and my heart. And as I write this, that precious laugh rings in my ears again. Tonight my dreams will be full of it.