Old age plans !

"Rayyan will you take care of me when I grow old"

"ABBSOLOOTELY"

"well, what will you do for me ?"

" I will buy you a computer to do the cooking and take you to the beauty parlour, and I..."

At this point Ruhi cut him abruptly, sounding very cross " No Rayyan I will take care of Mama. I will come to meet her and do makeup for her "

I am half amused half shocked ! While they squabble I wonder what I had been doing to make them both believe that all the care that I would ever need would be beauty care. And a computer that cooks ?! I wish Ruhi had let him finish.

5 years without fuss ?

The school saga continues and just as Ruhi outgrows her cocoon, Rayyan's travails begin.

I landed up to meet the teacher on the walk-in Friday and introduced myself :

"I am Rayyan's Mother'.

The teacher had been smiling politely from her desk as I entered from the further end of the room. Her smile vanished at my introduction as she gestured me to be seated.

She said : "Ah.. just as well that you came by, I was going to call you Mrs. Wasi." Deja Vu !

She said Rayyan speaks "weird things". The other day when the children were routinely asked if they were happy or sad that morning, Rayyan's eyes swelled up. He said he was "Very sad".

Upon asking the reason he said " because last night I could not finish cleaning up the house before I went to sleep". I cracked up at that and had tears rolling down my eyes. What a cheeky little pretender ! But the teacher cut me short and said " Its not funny".

He was asked to take out his swimming trunks from the school bag and he said : I havn't got any, I am just a beggar".

And another times when he hadn't finished his homework, he told the teacher his mother "lives somewhere else" and sometimes comes home late at night, "at 11 pm" to be precise.

Also, that he visits his mother on weekends and his Dad just looks him up when he is ready for school in the mornings. It looked like the teacher half believed what she had heard. I told her I was at home most of the time these days and that I do flexi hours but the tales continued, and the air became heavy in that room.

" Have you been ignoring him ?"

" Is there something wrong at home ?"

"Why would he say he is a beggar...kids don't have that vocabulary...is there a possibility of abusive language..."

My head was spinning. Of course I ignore him a lot. Of course he talks gibberish and thats one reason he is so popular. Of course he told Sridevi Maasi that her hair looked like Donkey's hair....but then we always thought he was so amusing and so cool.

He isn't shy. He talks nines to the dozens, he is sharp, much sharper than Ruhi and he is a happy child. I had never figured something could be wrong with the little chap. The teacher said I needed to watch him and that they had already started moral lessons with him about right thing and wrong thing and that God gives silver stars for truth spoken and black stars for lies. It didn't feel right to me. I didn't want a judgmental, ill natured God up there dishing out stars and stuff but then I was the mother whose child was telling highly detailed contrived stuff and it was obvious I had got it all wrong !

On another day he told the teacher (again with tearful eyes) that he was "so sad" because his mother buys new toys for him all the time when he has so many old toys that he can play with. I started to feel like someone caught doing illegal stuff " but Ma'm, thats not correct, he always demands new toys...". At the same time I felt like rushing home and spanking his tiny bum !!

The teacher agrees it may all be attention getting tactics but then I must realise that he is demanding attention and work on it. So thats my summer holiday homework to watch him closely, encourage him to speak the truth and wean him off the maid who may be inspiring him to fantasize himself as a cleaning boy or a beggar !!!

I came home and gently prodded him about what he had been saying in school. He pretended not to listen and then looked me straight into the eye and said " do you know I have REAL parents and ANOTHER parents?"

I gulped down spit and pretended to be casual and asked "Am I the REAL mother or ANOTHER one ?"

He said " REAL mother" most somberly.

"Who is the fake mother ?"

"Sheetal "

I have no friend by that name. My husband knows no woman by that name too (hopefully !). There is just no Sheetal in our universe.

I asked : "Hmmmm...who is the fake father then ?"

"Sheetal 2 ....both are Sheetal"

I wanted to laugh but I killed that urge. I thought I should tell him the angry God will give a black star but that wasnt an attractive thought either !

I told him it wasn't nice to make up stuff. He got mighty worked up and said he wasn't making up anything and that Sheetal 2 often comes to the Garage and I could meet him there.

I decided to change the topic and try another day !

That I lovfe him !

Rayyan is trying to fit a helicopter inside the belly of a hollow plastic turtle.

I am on my laptop and there has been silence for too long, I decide to break the ice.

In a sugary sweet voice I say : "Raayi, I love you".

He looks up and in the most dismissive tone ever : " ITS OK"

Me : "What do you meant its OK ???"

Rayyan, impatiently : "that you LOVFE me "

Four years just slipped by...

It was little Rayyan's 4th birthday on Saturday. We indulged him a lot and let him play King for the day. He lazed around the house like a pampered kitten as his sister fretted and fumed over party clothes to wear, games to play, balloons, candles, cake, music...if there was nothing left for fretting she would start inventing things.

I have an easy going relationship with my son. I have never had to work too hard to please him like I struggle to please his sister. Something as simple as pink lipstick on me makes him happy. Salwar Kameez after several westerns' days makes him happy. Fooling around makes him happy and the best time I've had in many years was day before yesterday when we both lay on our backs on the grass in the colony park and shouted like crazy at airplanes above our heads to "PLEASE please please pick us up ". He is funny and chilled out and  just like him, his four birthdays have been no-fuss too ! 

Except that I doubt if Rayyan fully understands how birthdays work since when the colony kids trickled in he happily grabbed the gifts and sweetly asked them to leave. I took him into a corner and asked him the matter. With all earnestness he told me that it was "his birthday" and he does not understand why other children should party. I explained to him how birthdays work but nada ! He opened the gifts and like a squirrel holed his stuff into some corner and waited for some more. His sister made herself pretty and entertained the little guests as per her plan. She has always been the party pro !


He cut his cake and then licked some. And happily repeated 'happy birthday' after every one who came over for dinner. It was a full house and a long day for me but he was up well past midnight, chirpy and full of beans. Long past I dropped dead to the world, till he quietly snuggled up to me with his favourite blue blanket and slept between my legs like a kitten ! 

p. s. Beats me why is he never the 'puppy' but always the 'Kitten' !