Pritam's Blog
An Unexpected Small Talk With My Mother
As I was standing on my balcony today, for some reason, I remembered the man who lived in the flat just opposite to mine a couple of years ago.
The man, I guess, was speech disabled. This is a locality where the buildings are so closely packed that you could even hear people whispering. But I had never heard his voice.
However, I knew he so wanted to have conversations with people. Every time our eyes met, he would ask me, in sign language, if I had had my meals, didn’t matter what time of the day it was.
Back in those days, I found it quite amusing. But then I thought that this was probably the easiest question that he could ask without uttering a word and yet making it understandable to the other person - a gesture that involves moving your hands towards your mouth…
I would feel pity for him. And at the same time, it seemed sweet to me.
That I realised it seemed sweet to me reminded me of my mom.
I have never been a great conversationalist, especially over phone. I never call anybody myself, not even my parents; it’s always they who call me up. And when someone calls me up, I barely receive the call (except in my parents’ case), especially when I know that it’s small talks that’s gonna happen.
My mom never liked this habit of mine. Even when she calls me up, I barely ask any question to her. I just reply to what she asks. And my replies are mostly monosyllabic (except when we are fighting or having a serious conversation). “Had dinner?” “Yes.” “How was office?” “Good…” “What did you do this Sunday?” “Read books, boozed a bit in the evening.”
So, she would ask me, “Why don’t you ever ask anything? Doesn’t it matter to you how my day had been? Don’t you want to know if I had had dinner?”
“Isn’t it obvious that you will have food. I mean as a kid I had seen you and dad fighting like crazy but even on those days, we never skipped a meal…And if you had a bad day or something to complain about, I know you would say that anyway…”
“That’s not the point here… We are growing old. Is it too much to expect from you? That you ask a few questions, try to know how we are doing?”
“I don’t like small talks, Maa… But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. Just say it when you need me and I will be right there for you…”
“How would you feel if I don’t ask you if you have had your meals?”
“I won’t feel anything.”
And then she would give up.
But as I remembered the man today and the kind of feeling his asking me if I had had my meals used to evoke, I felt a bit uncomfortable.
I called up my mom myself. I asked her a couple of unnecessary and insignificant questions, including if she had had her dinner.
She was like, “What happened to you today? Are you drunk?”
“I don’t drink anymore. And you know that even when I am drunk I don’t behave like this…”
“Then what happened today?”
“I just had a bad dream about you…That’s it…,” I lied. ” Things would be normal from tomorrow.”
I lied because I didn’t want her to expect me calling her up every day and have small talks… At the same time, I made sure she believes that I care about her..