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Friday, March 21, 2014

the mother and her daughter

 26th feb 2014

The mother was on her way to collect her daughter from the  coaching classes. The classes were just down the street. But there was this road which had to be crossed - heavy with traffic at all times of the day rash driving with no respect for rules . The mother wasn't really keen on taking any chances.

As she walked , she couldn't but thank her stars that the daughter was still open to the idea of being collected from her classes. She hadn't objected or even once thrown the typical adolescent tantrum.

The daughter came out of the building straight upto her and hissed.."Why do you have to come right up to the gate??. You could wait for me at the signal , up the road." 

The mother was livid and retorted... “If you really want to be so independent why don't you do the entire stretch by yourself? Walk home by yourself?”

The next day the mother once again was walking down the same street,,. to pick up the same brat from the same coaching class. On the way she saw two  little girls.. about six  yrs old. They were wearing the same school uniform as the daughter. They were prancing outside a store as their mothers picked up school supplies for them. The looked ever so cute in their tiny pig tails and pony tails.

The mother went back in time ..... Why Oh Why, do children grow up so fast ! Her own cute little bundle was now  a fire breathing teenager !

The mother was a running  a little late and she kept craning over the crowds in the street looking for her daughter. Yesterday’s insults were forgotten and her heart had been softened already at  the sight of the two little girls

Just  then, the mother spotted her daughter , she wasn’t alone. Walking with her was a young boy .  The mother tried to place the boy. He didn’t look like any of the classmates she had known.  But then she really didn’t think she would be able to recognize the boy as they all looked so different now from the cherubic ones  they had once been. They were growing up  too, sporting  young moustaches, pimples, a lanky frame….

Seeing her daughter with a boy, outside the background of school had shaken the mother a bit.


Looking at them from a distance, a bit detachedly... the daughter looked different. She didn’t look like the baby of the house anymore. She was a teen... a young lady.

She spotted me. I smiled at her and then at her friend. He smiled back awkwardly . When I
reached them,  they said their goodbyes and he walked away.

I asked her who he was. "From school?"

"No. from the coaching class, from another school," she said

I was trying to collect myself, when the daughter faced me and asked, “Can I walk with him? “

I looked at her hard, studying her face,  the expressions that flitted across . She was trying to act indifferent, but the look in her eyes was  almost pleading. I surprised myself and then her,  by saying a YES.

She happily ran ahead towards her friend, bridging the distance in a jiffy.

Bridging the distance... that was what I want to do with my  brat pack. Closing the distance between us .. or at least making the first move at doing so…attempting to build that bridge - of trust

The daughter and her friend were chattering away.. laughing . Soon her friend had to take a lane on the right, to his home  and my girl came back to me .


So what was the big deal....

For one.. until now, the frame of reference had been home, school and a circle of close friends. I keep harping away at her at home - 'you are a grown up girl' .. but to me she had only remained the younger child. I had not accepted that she had really grown up. Seeing her with another who was unknown to me,  was a first . The thought that soon... very soon.. her loved ones would include a whole lot of new people .  The thought that I might not approve but I might not have much of a say….... Ouuuchhhh !! That hurt. 


I guess , it is not so much about control, but that part of being just a bystander that is hurtful. 

It is time I grew up. I have to learn to  let go...

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