...and then

Monday, 16 May 2011

Amma, don’t go

This is fast turning into a mummy blog I see. But never mind. This morning I ran out to an assignment, finished it, went to school to pick up my daughter and brought her back home. Without prompting, this beautiful child of mine said, “It made me very happy that you came to pick me up, Amma.” My heart was glad when she said that even though I had a bit of a tiff with someone close this morning, and it was preying on my mind. But seeing her sweet little face, gummy smile and answering questions like, “What is plants’ food,” cleared the clouds.

We chatted on the way back from work and she showered me with kisses, singing songs she had learnt in playschool and displaying her extensive vocabulary. (I am so glad she says still messes up her grammar once in a while and says “ch” instead of the “s” sounds, or I tend to forget she’s a baby, not quite three yet.) I dropped her home and was about to leave when she grabbed me and wouldn’t let go. Big plump tears jumped out of her honest eyes as she tried to make a deal with me. “Don’t go offich now, Amma. Go tomorrow, when I go to kool,” she said. “I go to school and you go to offich.” It was all I could do to keep from joining her tear fest myself. No promises, explanations or bribes worked. All she wanted was to be with me. I know in a couple of years she won’t care and I know I will miss it. I know I want to be at home when she cares and is expressive of it. I want her to remember that she and her brother are the reason I go to work. Well, at least, the biggest reasons. But how do I tell her that? How do I make her understand that I’d much rather stay here at home with her, colouring with her and scribbling in her drawing book, than going out every day to work, when, the few times she has raised tearful objection, all I have told her in effect is that doing my work, keeping my boss happy and earning money are all more important than her helpless, honest tears.

I want to be home with my kids. I know I’ll go out of my mind but I want to be home. I don’t want to be telling them my time belongs to someone else and not them, when they are such a tremendously important part of my life, of who I am.
I miss those kids, as mad as they drive me.

For Shyama

I took the sun to sleep with me,
With it some flowers, a waterfall and a whole bowl of glass beads.
They swirled into my dreams and grew arms and legs
And sprouted a stubborn chin.
They got together, this tiny eddy of things
And became a little moon whose kisses I woke to.
They became my little girl,
A humbling piece of my heart, the purest part of my soul. 

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Blogger Kavita said...

I can relate to every line and every word of what you've written. You've put down your thoughts really well.

2:52 pm  
Blogger Sowmya said...

This is a beautiful, beautiful post Sandhya.

2:54 pm  
Blogger Sowmya said...

This is a beautiful, beautiful post Sandhya.

2:54 pm  
Anonymous Sunda said...

I can feel everyword in that though i am not a "Amma"..there cannot be a heart which doesn't get strung by this. beautifully written. i can still remember my daughter's words..

3:16 pm  
Blogger Ghadeer said...

aww so heart breaking :'( 'offich' :(
If I didn't know better that I have no idea about your circumstances, I'd be judging you so badly now :(

4:47 pm  
Blogger Sandhya Menon said...

Hey all, thanks for the comments. It's worse because she doesn't usually throw a tantrum when I go to work.

Sunda: This is not for mums alone. It's for every parents whose pants have been tugged at when on their way out, for every parent whose shirt is damp with the tears of their kids :)

Jnana: How I love your honesty.

5:17 pm  
Blogger Blasphemous Aesthete said...

Beautiful post.

How can anyone deny a little child, who means every word they say, from their heart and soul. Damn, office is necessary. But just once, wouldn't the boss agree to one Casual Leave?

Blasphemous Aesthete

6:29 pm  
Blogger The Wanderer said...


6:42 pm  
Blogger Roy said...

wow! it is soo touching! :)

9:01 pm  
Blogger Sumira said...

It looks like you and I are both going the mommy blogger way. :) I mean, how is it possible not to write about our kids, when they consume our thoughts for most of our waking hours? And especially when they say adorable things like 'offich'?

9:10 pm  
Anonymous priyanka shetty said...

not yet a mother. not even close to it but completely understand each and every word, each and every feeling..am glad ur daughter will grow up and read this n will value you even more n these moments.

9:12 am  
Blogger Unknown said...

Oh god sandy!!! I can realte to every word of what you have written becoause I go through this very frequently. You won't belive shreya is the happiest person in my house when I'm sick becos she tells amma" I know you are going to be at home and would be there when i come bac from school.
If only we could work at our convinient timings and if only bosses were so understanding!!!!
Oh sigh!!! We would never get these times bac in our life.
Absolute gud piece of ur work. I'm touched and in tears.


9:46 am  
Anonymous Nuttie Natters said...

Beautiful poem! the purest part of your soul!!

Umm...dont know if it helps but i had a working mommy and i dont think i remember days she had to go to work to get me "mamu" rather than stay with me. But i do remember her playing board games & reading out to me

1:18 pm  
Blogger Naveen said...


3:13 pm  

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