I don't mean to offend people with
mother-in-law problems. But my mom-in-law (MIL) is cool. Damn cool. Well for
once she is not the permanently offended elder. The kind who
perennially abhor the present.
She does not have a resume, a
Linkedin profile or a Facebook account, an email ID or even Whatsapp on phone,
to show for her coolness. She is just a hard-wired cool young woman in an aging
skin. And of course she has many stories of success to back my claim of her
coolness... But today we will not talk about her stories. Today we explore how
she is / became #mytribe!
So is she not the mother-in-law
material at all? Don't jump to conclusions dear readers, why would she waste
her time being a MIL in that case? She is that too. And she is full to her brim
with the nuances of every relationship, which she has handled over the
lifetime, with a lot of effort and dedication.
Did you just say I am bloviating? I
wouldn't disagree just yet. This is how I interface with people. And this is
how I interface with her too. I see her as just a person. Her strengths,
weaknesses in short her SWOT (strengths, weaknesses, opportunities and threat)
all taken together. She is, in the end, just another person, among the many I know.
Besides the fact that she means a world to the one person I love, my husband.
So she is indeed a massive backdrop to my life. And therefore quite important.
But we have a couple of moms and dads on both sides, mine and his, all equally
important.
Let's get straight into the topic
#mom-in-Law, #mytribe! Well she became #mytribe when... ah ha… caught, you are
dying to know the answer. The fun is in meandering and not in reaching the
destination. I cannot pinpoint that exact time, here is a piece you will
love.
Place is Amritsar, we had just
completed our circuit of original touristy things. Not exactly touristy, it is
the place of the pious Golden Temple and the gruesome Jalian Wallah Bagh, in
the midst of narrow, crowded, broken roads with no sidewalks. The rickshaw
drivers, besides honking continuously, also curse the pedestrians walking
helplessly in front of them, so they can reach their destination at an average
speed of 10 kilometres an hour. Going awkwardly, like an air filled balloon,
left astray, to lose air, making the burping sound through the small vent and
going unsure and awry. You get the picture?
Crowd oozing from everywhere,
tourists and locals alike, walk on the streets like toothpaste oozing out of
its tube. They fill every inch of the place, even the streets, escaping one
fatal accident after another, by a whisker, every few steps. Non-descript,
traditional style shops, with their doors opening on to the narrow busy
streets, each have a person sitting right there at the doors, soliciting people
to walk into their shops, all of them at once.
Locals have no patience at all,
fights erupt between strangers, at the slightest provocation. People here are
loud and expressive. I get reminded of my favourite comic, Asterix and Obelix and
their village of Gaul! It is only Lord Guru Nanak who keeps this place
together. Like the Druid Getafix does it for the Gauls. How else can you
explain the commotion, the endless street fights, all resulting in a peaceful
holy city? This place is a pilgrimage for the Sikhs. Gateway to the Wagah
Border, this is also the place where Indians go, to get a fleeting glimpse of
our estranged neighbours.
In this city where independence
came with heavy cost to lives of the innocent, first in the insane massacre at
Jalianwallah Bagh and then during partition, at the massacre of the Gadar. Time
has turned backwards here. The city remains purely traditional, with modern
transportation, gadgets and technology. It is a gruesome combination. We tried
navigating the place on two rented Toyota Innova, and we found ourselves mostly
walking long distances on foot through the narrow streets, bumping into other tourists
at every step.
We were a group of 7, My daughter,
then eight, counted in. MIL, her Sis and I had been pining to go shopping, in
this land of countless shops. We had planned to pick phulkaries and patialas,
(punjabi embroidery and punjabi style salwar suit). But the three of us
wondered how we would get past the non-shopping faction of our group. FIL (Father
in law), hubby, his uncle and my Daughter. We were 3 against four. The hot
afternoon sun, the constant street fights, the pollution and the travails of
being on foot in this suffocating atmosphere, was taking a toll on me. I was
beginning to change my mind about shopping.
Just then, I realised how much MIL
wanted to shop, when she came up to me and in a childlike tone said, 'Reema (my
pet name), only you can convince them to let us go shopping, please do
something.' And I, slightly embarrassed and quite amused, used my women
liberation dialogues to get our way. Basically I announced, 'I want to shop, so
I am shopping.' And then we shopped, fortunately our drivers agreed to drop us
at the shop door and park the vehicles somewhere nearby. And MIL shopped the
most, not just for herself, but for her daughter and her daughters in law too.
And as always she picked only the super fancy pieces. Now readers, do you get
it? She is certainly #Mytribe. And if this is not proof enough then
#Idon'tcare, #Smle!Smile!
Some of her qualities, I truly
appreciate are, bringing up a functional family. It is not a joke in today's
fragmented families, living in a world, fast becoming a global village. What an
irony. She has kept her family functional, even after all three of her children
got married and had children of their own. Who wants to bet that this is a
feat, which deserves a standing ovation several times over. She adapted to the
changes in her family and just kept it together, regardless of the set backs.
That sounds like the skill of a leader. Yes, she has had the help of FIL
through this journey. Tell me though, how many people can boast of accepting
their fault, when pointed by their spouses? That is a high order skill too.
Even today my soon to turn 80 MIL and past his 80 FIL, live on their own terms,
not feeling deserted, but empowered. They are certainly #ourtribe.
And now I see you asking, how can I
forget the hurts? In-laws and hurts are like a package, isn't it? And all our
other relationship are so well sorted out and absolutely without any dischord!
NO? Did I get that wrong? Yes, you are right, all our relationships are quite
messed up. Including that friend who we don't talk to anymore, the parents who
we never agree with, the spouse who causes hurt only because we expect the
world from them, those colleagues who are bent upon beating us to the next
position or job at work, those neighbours who make your dog look inferior to
theirs, just to get the kick out of it. Well we are beings of twisted
associations.
But MIL, she is different from
those others, isn't it? My complaints about her are socially endorsed and
globally empathised. So here is my rant. My MIL, she has an influence over my
husband. Sometimes it can be totally to my disadvantage. We disagree and we
openly disagree with each other at times. She has a totally different way of
handling things around home, than me. But here is the problem, I am a liberated
modern woman not without reason. I also remember the times when I have been
quite a quirk, if not a jerk and then times when I have been a jerk too. Oh
don't even remind me of her shortcomings. It is a package of collective
shortcomings of every member of my family. Lets leave that package packed away
and forgotten.
Here is why she keeps infiltrating
#mytribe more and more. You should see us chatting on phone. We talk for hours
about things of no real significance. And we appreciate each other's qualities
and give advice to each other and complement each other, like one would expect
two women in a family to do.
