Y FOR YELLOW STICK

Yellow is my favourite colour. That’s why I like men in Yellow jerseys Chennai Super Kings….CSK!! He he he…However this post is neither about colour Yellow nor about CSK or IPL. It’s about something else. It’s about a YELLOW STICK.

 READ ON…..

When a child is born, a mother also takes birth.... right away!!

To be honest I never believed in... When people say that children should take care of their mother given to the fact that they (read Mothers) selflessly take care of them,

Selfless!!! I really wonder, because, I never felt myself selfless as a mother Whatever I did for my child…it was just for my own concerns, my own delights and own responsibilities.

I felt bad when he was ill….So I couldn't sleep

I always get the Elysian glee……With his Every Flicker of smile

I feel like a sense of divinity around me…having him in my lap

So where did I do anything for him??? It’s all for me and myself!!

What I received from him is immeasurable and incomparable with what I did for him….this is the reality or rather truth for me at least.

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Like any other mother I have also numerous beautiful memories of being a mother. Wrote many things about it already, however motherhood is such a bag of experiences and moments that even eternity would be insufficient to narrate them that to in a first forward manner.yah.

Well let me trail down the memory lane. Let me tell you about the Yellow Stick.  There are loads of such memoirs but this one is really soul-stirring!!

He was in STD II then.

That day was as mundane as another. It was just of those routine days. Like any other day, that day too he was the same naughty boy, never willing to go to school. With all his familiar antics he was in full swing to try his best to bunk school. And I was in my routine self to get him prepared for his schools. 

Afternoon school….space constraint in schools in Mumbai…..we know that.

Usually our everyday routine and trend was….

From waking up from bed to getting prepared for schools…everything used to happen with my shouting!!Shouting….no its repeated shouting….yes that’s more correct!!

You know...throat exercise recommended for Moms....for repeating the same things again & again. I believe…whether a woman was a cuckoo or not before becoming a mother but become a crow for sure after she becomes one….

I used to shout at everything...

Pupun, Brush your teeth.... and he would first ask the toothpaste to come out of the tube first….

Again shout…brushing finished??

He would say, “Okay Mama….doing it.” As if bahut atyachaaar ho rahi hai bachhe ke upar.

Similarly

Finish you milk….he would first make faces, then there will be stories on how children don’t love milk in the morning!! How his friends Moms never compel them to have milk…blah…blah

“You know Mamma…Shreya does not drink milk and her mother doesn’t force her also.”

As if I don’t know Shreya’s mother…huh

Then it’s the term for Bathing'… he would start asking silly questions

“Mama…doses this tap ever baths or do birds bath?”

OMG!! Only as a mother I know how difficult it is to handle his Masti

What I mean to say is it’s really a terrible task to make him do the daily chores. You need to be known for your constant reiterations, excellent tolerance and a multi-eyed person,

That’s our routine for every school day!!

That day was no different on his part, but I was not feeling okay for something. So I was getting irritated and angry with his everyday tantrums and making scene of things. I knew how I controlled my anger at times. I think he was too little to understand that but I was edgy and my tolerance was crossing the limit.

So when he started making faces with his breakfast….it was too much. I really lost my temper. I hit him with my palms,

 One on his chubby cheeks and one on his back and one on his bums…

 First he had not expected that….

 Then, when he realized what had just happened he started crying. But then looking at my serious face, with fear, anger and tear…finished his breakfast. After that…he made no more scenes, quietly wore his uniform and shoes…trying to look into my eyes.... 

After hitting him…I was also almost in tears. But I was hiding my emotion and avoiding any direct eye contact with him.

 I never hit him with my hand…so I got hurt while hitting him….I mean it was very painful for me as well. In fact I never hit him by hand, but sometime in case there are uncontrollable tantrums I used to hit (not hard) with the back end of a Fibre  Yellow Spatula. We had got it with something ..I guess.  Actually there is an interesting tale about this YELLOW STICK…as we called it.

Aaditya…used to hate the Yellow Stick like anything. Because for that Yellow Coloured lifeless fellow, you know he couldn’t do things as per his wish. It was quite threatening to him and he used be afraid of it. That's why it was his biggest enemy. Sometime even the mention of “Yellow Stick” would be enough to control his tantrums and bring back his tempers. He hated it like anything and one fine day…we found “The Yellow Stick” had gone missing mysteriously!!

Anyway…as we were getting late... We rushed to the Bus stop. There also he was quiet. Believe me, it’s surely an 8th wonder of the world if he keeps quite for a moment…A Super Chatter box..You know!!

He boarded the bus…sitting in the seat...Gave me a mixture of “innocent but mama-I’m-angry-with-you” kind look. You know those extra expressions...

 Though I was feeling very bad as I had hit him but I just looked at him at last …and said… no Masti!

 By the evening…he was alright! He had forgotten everything. Children don’t remember things …right

 However my mischievous lad was little composed that day in the evening…may be morning effect was still acting on him.

 No throwing of shoes, bag…he kept it in its place. No shouting for remote, no demands. You know…The good boy types!!!

 was preparing his evening snacks…

After freshen up… he came into the kitchen and said

“Mamma….take this”

I turned back. I was surprised…it was the YELLOW STICK!!!!

 Then again He said, “app ko kabhi bhi mujhe marana ho na to ye Yellow Stick se hi mara karo…kyuoki hath se marte ho to aap ke hath mein dard hota hai”

(Mama next time you hit me...hit by this stick. By hitting me by your hand ...you get hurt know)

I couldn't believe!! I mean…I don’t know how to express. OMG!! He had noticed how I had felt pain in my hand after hitting him in the morning!!

What could I say…?

I was almost in tears. Words are not enough; in fact no words can express those feelings!! That is beyond any expression. I was in tears. But he was smiling. I took him in my lap and I asked

Mama ne jyada mara kya…..Mama bahut buri hai

(Did mamma hit you too hard...Mamma is very bad)

But suddenly he jumped from my lap and said….”I’m iron man!!I don’t feel pain you know!”

Ha ha ha…

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Thank you God…You made me a mother. Mother is the most beautiful creation of God.  And I’m happy with this designation!!!

I’m happy that I’m a mother!!!! 

This is my Post for DAY – 25 For the Alphabet Y In #AToZChallenge by #Blogchatter #BlogchatterA2Z