A Conversation With My Mother<\/p>\n\n\n\n
______________________________________________________<\/p>\n\n\n\n A Conversation With My Mother ______________________________________________________ It was the third time Mom called me in just about two hours. The first time I was in an important meeting, the second time I had just taken a short break between meetings to take a leak, and the third time I was parked in front of my […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-654","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/shabbeedurshuja.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/654"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/shabbeedurshuja.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/shabbeedurshuja.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/shabbeedurshuja.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/shabbeedurshuja.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=654"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/shabbeedurshuja.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/654\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":656,"href":"https:\/\/shabbeedurshuja.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/654\/revisions\/656"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/shabbeedurshuja.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=654"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}It was the third time Mom called me in just about two hours. The first time I was in an important meeting, the second time I had just taken a short break between meetings to take a leak, and the third time I was parked in front of my laptop desperately trying to finish a report before heading for my weakly badminton game with some of my health-conscious colleagues who were in their mid-fifties, same as me, and didn\u2019t appreciate the rebellious belly that kept on pushing up. The playing courts were scheduled well in advance and being late meant reduced game time.
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cHello, mom!\u201d I answered this time. She was quite headstrong and wouldn\u2019t stop until I did. \u201cSorry, I was in meetings all afternoon. Has been a terribly busy day.\u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI know,\u201d Mom spoke in her usual sarcastic tone. \u201cYou are too busy to talk to your mother. Just wait till I die. Then you\u2019ll be sorry.\u201d
I was slightly alarmed. That dialogue appeared way too early in the conversation. She was mad.
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cMom! How many times have I told you not to talk like that? Is everything okay?\u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cEverything is okay,\u201d there was clear irritation in her voice. Something was seriously wrong.
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cDid Pinky say something?\u201d
Pinky was my only sister who lived in Connecticut with her family. When dad died about four years ago back in our home country and mom was having trouble adjusting with my only brother\u2019s wife who had suddenly assumed more authority over mom, Pinky applied for her permanent residency in the USA under the immediate family<\/em> class. It took about six months to process. Since then she has been staying with her. Unfortunately, Mom had a misconception that I, her eldest son, didn\u2019t do enough to get her a permanent residency in Canada. I had tried to explain to her about our picked-by-draw<\/em> system but so far hadn\u2019t been able to convince her. \u00a0\u00a0
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cOf course not! Listen, I have something to ask from you.\u201d Mom sounded serious.
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Just a couple of years shy of eighty, she was barely four feet ten inches and was on the heavier side. She was widely known for her mood swings from gentle to furious, nice to abominable. Naturally, her relationship with just about everyone was built on equal portions of love and hate. Not exactly sure why but I always found myself at the wrong end of her moods most of the time. If she was asking something from me that was a good thing. This gave me one of those rare opportunities to make myself look worthier to her.
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cWhatever you need, Mom, just tell me,\u201d I didn\u2019t hold off expressing my eagerness to please her. \u00a0
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cThe handheld massager that you sent me is way too heavy,\u201d Mom said after a momentary pause. \u201cI can\u2019t use it. My hand hurts. Where do you get all this cheap stuff?\u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cThat was the lightest I could find, Mom,\u201d I objected. \u201cAnd it wasn\u2019t the cheapest, I swear.\u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI know the ins and outs of you, so don\u2019t try to fool me. Anyway, do you remember Rita? She is one of my distant cousin\u2019s daughters. Lives in California with her husband. I must have mentioned her to you before. I was just talking to her this morning. My cousin and her husband were staying with them before. About a month ago they went to stay with their son Manik in Canada. With immigration.\u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Stationed in the USA, Mom had a large circle of people \u2013 mostly kin of various degrees \u2013 whom she constantly kept in touch with. This immigration<\/em> part was not so subtle attempt to point out how I was the only one who claimed to be hindered by the system. She never missed an opportunity to taunt me.
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cMom! You know how it is in Canada.\u201d I vehemently protested. \u201cI explained it to you.\u201d \u00a0
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cNo need to get so defensive now. Anyway, a few days ago both tested COVID positive. Even after taking vaccines. They are now quarantining in the house. Manik and his wife both work. Things are really hard. Manik\u2019s wife is getting stressed. She is blaming Manik. My cousin and her husband are beating themselves up for making the trip. They want to go back to their daughter but they can\u2019t. What a mess. Thank god, I didn\u2019t make the same mistake. At one point I was dying to visit you. \u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cMom, you know how nice Nita is. She would never freak out even if you got sick.\u201d
Nita was my wife. At fifty-two she wasn\u2019t exactly the same avatar of patience and niceties that she once was but I had to choose my words carefully while talking about her with Mom, who shared everything with her, regretfully. \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI don\u2019t doubt that for a moment,\u201d Mom cautiously said. I guess this was an area where she didn\u2019t trust me either. Keeping Nita happy was the key to her entry, she knew it. Mom\u2019s handling of Nita could simply be described as plain flattery. I was just a second-class citizen of the house who moved around like a shadow to avoid taking up any household chores. Nita was loving and caring and all that but lately she did grow a temperament issue and being on her bad side could only bring suffering. I was a burning example of that. \u00a0
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI didn\u2019t say you do,\u201d I tried to be assured.
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cWho knows what you tell her about me,\u201d Mom grudgingly muttered. \u201cSuck up!\u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I guess I deserved that. Over the years to keep things peaceful I might have twisted a few things here and there. \u00a0\u00a0
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cHold on a second, Mom!\u201d I still had to object. \u201cYou think I suck up to her? Do you even hear yourself talking about her? You make her look like a deity! She is so good! She is so nice! She is so wonderful! Talk about sucking up! Everybody knows how much you want her to like you, now that your other daughter-in-law hates you. Don\u2019t ever forget why you left Dhaka in the first place.\u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cFor god\u2019s sake, you don\u2019t have to get so mean now,\u201d Mom snapped. \u201cBut you have always been like that. Everybody called you the mean boy<\/em>. They still do. Do you want to hear what your uncles and aunts think about you now?\u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cYou are just saying that out of vengeance,\u201d I weakly said. It was common knowledge that I wasn\u2019t exactly a popular figure in my family circle. \u00a0They had high expectations from me, financially and influentially. I was an underachiever and was not in a situation to offer much to them. I didn\u2019t want to over-promise and under-deliver. As a result, my relatives had long perceived me as a selfish, stingy prick. Suit yourselves!
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Mom sighed. \u201cI know, some of them are too demanding. But some others can surely use some help. They are dirt poor. Struggling to meet the ends. Did I tell you about Bithi?\u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I was alarmed. Such leading questions had only one direction to progress \u2013 some sort of financial assistance. It was time for me to turn elusive. \u201cYou must have. \u00a0Anyway, Mom, how is your arthritis lately?\u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI don\u2019t think I told you about Bithi,\u201d Mom wasn\u2019t dancing to my tune. \u00a0\u201cShe is the eldest daughter of the son of one of my cousins from my mother\u2019s side. She is studying in college, in science. Beautiful, brilliant girl. I\u2019ll send you her picture. Her parents found a suitable boy for her \u2013 an engineer! Can you believe that? Wedding in two weeks! But\u2026,\u201d Mom paused.
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I grimaced.
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cThe groom is asking for a motorcycle,\u201d Mom blurted out. \u201cNot as a dowry, just a souvenir from the girl\u2019s side. \u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I took a deep breath. Giving dowry? A motorcycle! Was I nuts? I realized she might have already committed to it. This would require a lengthy discussion, at a later time. \u00a0\u201cOkay, mom. Is that what you called me for?\u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cWill you do it?\u201d Mom sounded apprehensive.
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cLet me talk to Nita first.\u201d I had to flash my trump card.
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cOf course! They are all so excited about the wedding. But listen, that\u2019s not why I called you though.\u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cMom, I am really busy now. I got this report to finish. Can you just get to the point please?\u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cDon\u2019t be so impatient with me,\u201d she snapped. \u201cDon\u2019t ever forget what I had to go through to bring up a brat like you! If your father was alive he would be so shocked!\u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I sighed. \u201cMom! How am I being impatient? I got work to do.\u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I checked the time. It was almost five. My badminton partners had been checking on me. They wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. My report still needed a little work.
\u201cMom, listen!\u201d I tried a final time, \u201cI\u2019ll call you from home later tonight. You can tell me what you want at that time. How does that sound?\u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cSounds terrible!\u201d mom retorted. \u201cIt would be too late by then.\u201d \u00a0\u00a0
She surely wasn\u2019t in the mood to make it easy for me. I could disconnect and later claim a connection issue but she would figure it out and give me grievances. It would also become fodder for gossip among my kin. The boy doesn\u2019t want to talk to his elderly mother! Devil\u2019s worshipper!<\/em> \u00a0\u00a0
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cMom, why don\u2019t you just tell me what you want?\u201d I was desperate.\u00a0
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cSon, do you remember I told you about a mosque that the villagers want to build on a piece of land that your father donated to them?\u201d Mom said keeping a very level voice. I couldn\u2019t be sure if this was a continuation of our discussion or a new twist. \u00a0
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cYes, Mom, I remember.\u201d I sounded dejected. She had been bugging me to make a large donation to the mosque committee. My connection with God had always been a bit fuzzy and such a notion did not excite me in the least. If the villagers were so hell-bent on having a brick building for worshipping, shouldn\u2019t they come up with the dough? \u00a0
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Mom read my mind. \u201cPenny-pincher!\u201d She rebuked. \u201cWhen you give in God\u2019s way, God looks after you too! Always remember that. Do you even pray anymore? Your father was such a god-loving person. He would be so sad.\u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 This time I sighed audibly. Bringing up Dad was part of her desperate attempts to make me budge. \u201cMom, I have to go now or I\u2019ll miss the game. Do you want me to send some money for the mosque? I\u2019ll. Happy? Can I go now?\u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cNo, you cannot,\u201d Mom said rather forcefully. \u201cThat\u2019s not why I called. Sometimes I feel pity for that poor girl.\u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cWho are you talking about?\u201d I inquired. It was quite clear that I wasn\u2019t going to be able to finish the report now. I\u2019d have to take my laptop home and get it done at night. Nita didn\u2019t like me working late at home. She was a bit of a discipline freak and working late to her was a clear indication of poor time management at the office. \u00a0
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cWho else? Nita! Your poor wife. Moron!\u201d Mom snapped.
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cShe doesn\u2019t need your pity,\u201d I remarked. \u201cShe is the tyrant of our home. We can\u2019t even move\u00a0 a finger unless she approves.\u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cDon\u2019t exaggerate! She likes to keep things\u2026let\u2019s say – controlled. You need somebody like that. You had always been lost in your own little world. That girl gave you a life!\u201d\u00a0
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cMom, why are you suddenly so mushy-gushy about her? What is going on?\u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cDo you remember when we arranged this marriage for you?\u201d Mom continued in her journey to bootlick Nita. \u201cNita\u2019s parents didn\u2019t want to get their daughter married to an expatriate. But you went all gaga over her. Then I and your dad went to talk to them. They loved us so much that they said yes.\u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 That story had changed over time. There was some truth to it, I guess. According to prevalent traditions, Nita and I had seen each other a few times before I proposed to her for marriage. Her parents refused at first but later agreed when they met my parents. The myth was, that it was my father who they found very impressive. A physician in profession my late father surely had a very pleasing personality. \u00a0\u00a0
\u201cMom, why do you go around saying that to everybody? Even my kids poke fun at me about that. Why are you so mean to me all the time? Are you mad because I couldn\u2019t get you to immigrate to Canada? I told you, it\u2019s not me, it\u2019s Justine Trudeau, the prime minister.\u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cI know! I am not stupid!\u201d Mom protested. \u201cNita explained everything to me. What a blessing she is! You should be thankful that you got a nice woman like that. She called up my cousin and her husband and spoke to them. They are so impressed. She also promised to buy the bike for Bithi\u2019s bridegroom.\u201d
\u00a0
\u201cShe did?\u201d I couldn\u2019t hide my disappointment. \u00a0
\u201cThere\u2019s more. I told her about the mosque. She is going to send 500 dollars. Last Mother\u2019s Day who sent me a gift basket? Her. What did you do? Nothing. Nada. Not even a call. Moron!\u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I cleared my voice. Things often skipped my mind. \u201cI forgot! It can happen to anybody. When she does something, she represents both of us.\u201d My badminton partners were waiting for me, giving me impatient looks. I had to resort to the extreme solution. \u201cMom! You are breaking up. I\u2019ll call you tonight. I\u2019ll get you whatever you want. Okay, mom? Bye-bye\u2026\u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cDon\u2019t hang up, idiot!\u201d Mom yelled out from the other end. \u201cHere is what I want. After your game when you are coming back home buy a bouquet for Nita. That\u2019s my gift to her for her anniversary.\u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I sprang up like a cartoon character at the sound of that magical word. Anniversary!
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The uncanny silence from my end was duly noted by my mother. \u201cYeah! Moron! It\u2019s yours too. 23rd<\/sup>! Also, buy a hammer for you, and while you are driving back keep hitting your head with it. Can\u2019t you set up an alarm in the least?\u201d
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u201cThank you, mom! Thank you! You are the best!\u201d I hung up, briefly explained the situation to my pals, and ran.
\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I had forgotten the 22nd<\/sup> too. And it wasn\u2019t very pleasant.<\/td><\/tr><\/tbody><\/table><\/figure>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"