That’s what we’ve been feeling like, sometimes. Particularly some days like maybe yesterday. Had a kind of adventure – all originating from a phone call, Mi. Of course, we did laugh at the end of it – with total relief, I must say. Being Thursday, Sury decided to work from home. The morning progressed, much like it usually does – then just after we decided which of us would go bring Vidur from school, the phone call came. It was Cheenu anna, from a train bound for Pune, saying that they had passed through Yeshwantpur – and had a short wait at the station. Sriram plugged in his iPod for charging at the a/c waiting room – and forgot to take it. So could we please go to the station and see if we could get it? It was a present from his wife. Sury put the phone down and of course, our emotions ranged from irritation, ridicule, anger and then – resignation – after all – the damn thing is expensive and the least we could do is make an effort to retrieve the iPod. So – once again – we decided Sury would head to the station and I would head to school.
Then – I suddenly remembered that Ashwin’s dad is associated with the station. So I called Srilatha and spoke to her. She said he was at the city station. Sigh…and said we’d better head out there quickly if at all we were to find it. Well – Sury rushed. Then – 5 minutes later Srilatha calls again – to say her husband spoke to the station master at Ypur and asked him to keep the iPod safely – and hand it over only to me. How decent no? And how lucky, Sriram.. Well – when Sury landed up there they were hesitant to hand it over to him 😛 because they expected Ms. and not Mr. Anyway – Ashwin’s dad phoned the station while Sury was there – and by 2.25 pm, Sury left Ypur – WITH the iPod. Now if that’s not good luck, I seriously don’t know what is. I congratulated myself for remembering Ashwin in time. If not, how stupid it would have been – and become a might have been.
You know Mi, my head constantly spills over with things to tell you – and when I sit down to write, half the things are gone. 🙁 Did I tell you that we donated some of the nighties to some workers at Sury’s office? They were very grateful. I have mountains of things to go through. Just don’t know where the time is. Can you believe that 18 days later – am still not properly organized. But I’ll get there. I always think of how you would give me a shot of adrenalin through your encouragement whenever I got irritated or mad at something. I think the bhoomi itself couldn’t bardaash your goodness.
Yesterday Vidur drew a fab portrait of Suraiya and my eyes instantly filled with tears when I saw it. He got her expression perfectly. Every time he sings – I hope you are listening in. It is lovely. Hey, remember how you used to hold him, when he was 6 months old and sing ‘Vidya, nee begane baaro” and he would go “ehhhhhhhhhhhhhh” loudly. Gosh, I would always admire how you would tease him. I remember that day he began to punch you because he was mad at you. You would keep peeping out of the door with him to see if I was back after emailing at the Institute. What fun days those were. Remember our trip to Fashion Street? At the ripe young age of 7 months, Vidur pulled a girl’s hair and laughed gleefully, following it up with a regurgitation of his food on her shoulder! Then at the supermarket, he pinched one lady’s bum because she wouldn’t move from the shelf where his familiar Marie biscuits were visible. I am so glad you had a completely happy relationship with Vidur. And I want to tell you that he’s a gentle child – all thanks to you. You instilled wonderful qualities in him, and I think somehow, in his subconscious mind, he will always remember them and act on them. He calls you the ‘best teacher in the whole world’. I fully agree.
Here’s a happy pic for you – with Vidur:
I still have to scan some of those pictures – in fact I have the pic from the day you were singing Krishna to him. Ok – I just can’t resist adding the Leslie-Hariharan song – remember how often we used to hear it at that time? What a rage that particular album of theirs was! Here it is, lets listen together again:
What can I say, Mi? Come back as Devi – or come back as my daughter, next time.
