It's 4 am.
I turned around to find my phone in the dark.
Yup! It is 4 am.
It had to be since I am up from a heavenly sleep. Actually I was forced to be. The sound of a ceaseless buzz is tearing the serene silence of this hour into million pieces. The worst part is that it will go on for about half an hour more, at least, until my mom finally wakes up and turns the alarm off. Why does she do that? Why?
I should have been accustomed with this daily routine by now, but it gets me every time. Sometimes I am the one who disables the alarm, but that happens every once in a while. It's obvious that I will not always have last minutes assignments to finish!
My mom has been doing this ever since I can remember. She has to be the first person to wake up in the morning, and she has to set the alarm to a time she can never wake up! It made sense while she was still doing her teaching job, but I don't get why she does that now, especially when she is retired.
This "early bird" thing of her gets even weirder when the following day actually has some plans in it. It could be a doctor's appointment, a special outing, or guests coming over at dinner, or anything at all! On those days, she wakes up at 3 am, and starts making a fuss, as if we have an early morning flight to catch! I don't remember a day of my life when she wasn't in a rant about things getting done, and also a day when I didn't doubt her ways to get there!
Ours was a typical middle class Bangladeshi family of four. We don't talk much, go out as a family much (except for weddings and funerals), eat together much, pat our backs much, and absolutely don't hug each other, at all. I could never understand how a daughter becomes "best friends" with her mom, and I think the feeling is mutual between my lady and I.
She was always busy when I grew up; with her work, her chores, and her "feeling blue" moments. She wasn't at all a soccer mom; she didn't take me for tuitions, art classes, tennis practices, or guitar lessons. She never picked my brain to be the best at whatever I do. She left me to be myself.
I am the second daughter. I have always called her a "Panda Mom", who cared for her first offspring and lets the second one to be on her own, out there in the wilderness. She always responded to that reference mysteriously, with a smug face! No wonder I don't get her!
Besides her morning spree, she has another bizarre habit. She likes to sit in the drawing room, almost all day. And by "all day" I mean all day!
She reads the newspaper, books, and magazines there, gossips on the phone with her ex-colleagues there, takes a nap there, and even just sits in the dark there. Like any other common floor-plans available in Dhaka, our main entrance also leads to the drawing room. And that's why my mom is the first person to reach the door when someone knocks. Everyone coming to this house thus faces her first.
Like most of her other actions, I didn't get this one either.
The other day, when I was passing that room, I overheard her side of a telephone conversation:
"… No. I don't act like an outsider. I just like to sit here, to receive people, and to see people going out…"
- "…. But parenting is eerie, apa! I realized it later. We try to protect the baby from the whole world, but don't realize what we can do to our own children!"
-"… I just make sure that I am there, you know, like a gatekeeper? I just make sure everything she comes across gets past me first, at least when it is possible. I didn't want her to take things for granted. I will not be there for her forever, you know. I just wanted to make her feel that I trust her, and she doesn't need to report to me for everything.
I just wanted to wake up every morning to see my children are sound asleep. I know mothers are supposed to be more involved. Maybe I am different; maybe I am wrong. I never thought I should define things, or set goals for them. I just wanted to be there, as the first person, like nature ordained me to be.
I just wanted to be the first person to find them, to look at them, and to let them to be in the world, that's it!
Like their gatekeeper, you know?"
(A fictional tribute to all the parents who are always there for their children, in their own unique ways)
Mehnaz Tabassum is a
critic and writer.
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