15th January, 2011
My mom was sat in an open veranda with a bowlful of uncooked white rice in a winnowing basket. When I stepped near her, she gestured me to sit there waiting for some ritual. She took out a grain of rice that was broken half- asking me if that was perfect. I didn’t know for what though.
She took a metal bowl and wiped my feet with the water.
Although a confirmed atheist; the family, belief or community I “come from”, elders don’t touch the young ones’ feet. This is quite contrary to Punjabi and a few more Hindu culture, where the minor girls are worshiped on Navratri days. Their feet is cleansed and touched to obtain blessings. Besides offering food prepared in clarified butter, they are also given other gifts and money to take away. With the modernization of the cultural traditions, a lot of things have been added up for the purpose of showing off!
She did that a couple of times till my uncle appeared from somewhere!
Despite my stopping her, she went on doing that lost in her own oblivion. I could barely understand what she was upto. First she cleaned my feet with water. Then she took some rice grain and placed them on my feet in the way as we apply cream. They were wet by soaking. She repeated the procedure with water again till the rice grains were washed away.
I stopped my uncle when he had barely started to imitate the act.
He was my “best friend” in my growing up years. He happens to be my cousin maternal uncle. Whatever loss I have survived because of him; I have come to not like him anymore. I have lost my mom, my home and my childhood to two men- namely my dad and uncle. So when he had tried to wash my feet, I had stopped him. He had turned red with embarrassment and left.
I am perplexed thinking about whatever I have dreamt of. Very clearly the dream is current dated. I lost my mom when I was 17. The situations I dreamt of reflected upon my mental status as on date. I do not hate anyone anymore; but for sure, the hurt I have received and then suffered of till last year, can not be meted out. Ever since I have started to blog, the realizations have grown me up. I no longer look back and sigh. Instead, I smile in smirk.
I decided that I no longer wish to portray myself as a victim or the sufferer.
I don’t give a damn anymore. I don’t carry the hurt anymore. I don’t cry tears recalling how things have been to me. Pests are only gotten rid of. Something that I had done the moment I was left to handle my life on my own after losing my mom. I had vowed to myself to emerge as a successor instead of a survivor. Besides my having to handle my Life in the best possible manner; I have started to write about all of that.
I don’t wince anymore.
I love to take myself back to the “lost years” without feeling the pain I had gone through while in that period. Perhaps, I have learnt to “LIVE”. I am vindicated; yet, very much at peace! Paradox..? Yes.. That’s how I have always been. I have come to do Image Makeovers with 100% perfection. Guess, I have done that to my own individual self and now have perfected my present day lifestyle.
Maybe Mom celebrated my Win.