I was standing with a bunch of others, bag on my back, a handkerchief pinned to my sweater and a water bottle around my neck. For some reason I felt lost in the statue of Mother Mary on the far right end. There were others like me there too. Some were playing the game ‘steps’ on the stairs to the left. Someone said 10 and the rest jumped one step. She then said 30 and the rest jumped 3 steps down further. Then there were those who had put the bag on the ground for some kind of solace on the see-saw. Of course, there were a few crying too for they had fallen while playing catch. But I seemed to be floating in a bubble of my own. And then suddenly I felt it. He was there, a surprise, for it was only 12 in the afternoon and he was supposed to be at office. I felt a peck on my cheeks and saw him. Baba. He had come to take me home. And I went with him leaving behind everyone else, hand in hand with my father. Now that I think about it he still holds my hand that way, firmly around my wrist especially while crossing a busy street. My hero, the word certainly has a ring to it. And just as I complete the last sentence he sends me a WhatsApp. Strange how he always knows when I’m thinking about him.

I fought with her as a child but I was the one she would share secrets with. I woke up in the mornings to cuddles from her. Of course, it wouldn’t be evening until she played her favorite Rabindra Sangeet on the music system. I got my love for eating out and shopping from her and needed to be with her all the time. I would bunk junior college just to be at home with her. And even now I call her 10 times a day. I don’t know maybe I love disturbing her when she is in the middle of something. I just don’t let go when she urges that she has a meal to prepare or a serial to watch. I need her. Ma, my fairy God-mother. She is probably the coolest mom in the world. When I stepped out of home for the first time I was surprised at how my friends had to take permission for everything in their lives from their parents. Infact, they didn’t even have the liberty to choose what they want to eat or wear. Thankfully I don’t remember to ever needing any permission for anything. I just had to inform. And a lot of that has to do with the mindset she has, even now. Perhaps, that’s why I can take decisions easily in life. But that’s not it. I can fight with her, even scream at times when I’ve mood swings but she never ever gets angry with me or my sister for that matter. She’s the rock of our family and our lives revolve around her. I’m married but still to me my home is where my mom lives, where she cooks and when she has her small kitchen garden. She knows when I’m upset for she calls without fail at that very instant. And then I show my tantrums and ask her to hang up. But then the very next moment I call her back and there she begins healing me. If she’s not the fairy God-mother than who is?

Ma and Baba. These are words that resemble love, care, strength and protection. When your parents are with you, life seems balanced. What can go wrong? Ma and Baba will take care of everything right? Who can cause any harm? Nobody. They won’t dare with Ma and Baba being there. But the moment even one of them is afflicted with anything all hell breaks loose. Life seems to spiral out of control and even disintegrate.

The desire to scream at the top of my voice fills me today. I feel as though I have been flung from a carousel with full force towards the unknown. I don’t know where I’ll land. All I want to do now is not think, shut out all the windows of my mind and heart, perhaps even hide in some corner of the world. Maybe I’m the odd one out, maybe I need to quieten my inner self and not react. But some things just happen unconsciously, don’t they? With a sudden eruption of inclement weather on the health front for both my strengths vulnerable is what I’m right now. If there is a higher power out there I urge Him to take care of my strengths. I promise to be good, I really do.