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Karma returns to each one of us. A mother hilariously describes what she did to her parents, her son now, does to her.
“Not entirely his fault… blame it on the genes he inherited!” calls out my husband from the living room, following it up with an audible chuckle.
I decide to tackle him later and look at my son with absolute disgust, while he positions the pillow to counter my attack. Yes, I am waging a war to conquer my six-year-old, so that I can take him to the bathroom to be bathed. Every day, the moment I mention the word ‘bath’ he runs to the bedroom and arms himself with a pillow, bellowing “I hate bathing.”
Me: “I don’t want to take bath. The water will be too cold.”
Mother: “The water is warm and absolutely perfect. You will not get anything to eat unless you bath.”
Me: “Okay, I don’t want to eat anything. I hate bathing. Let me die with
ready but useless tears flow out of my eyes.
He: “Mother, I can’t go to sleep without hearing a bedtime story.”
Me: “Okay.” starts reading the story of Winnie the pooh, yawns and stealthily skips a few paragraphs.
He: “Mother, you skipped the part where Winnie is stuck at the door of Rabbit’s house. You are cheating.”
Me: “Oh, did I? Big mistake! Sorry.” stifles a groan and continues reading without missing even a single word.
Me: “Father, I can’t sleep without hearing the story of ‘the four friends’. You should read me the story as always.”
Father: “But dear, you already know the story. I am so tired, my dear. We will read it tomorrow, all right?”
Father starts reading the story stifling a yawn.
Me: “Father, you forgot to read the part about where the tortoise gets trapped in the hunter’s net.”
He: “Mother I want you to buy me that book. See the one about Peter Pan. Yes, that one.”
Me: “Dear, that story you already have in the Disney story collection. We don’t need another book with the same story.”
He: “Mother, this one is better. It has better pictures. I like it.”
Me: “I don’t have enough money to buy that. If we buy that we won’t have money to pay for the auto when we reach home.” makes the best excuse possible to make him forget about the book.
He: “Don’t worry; just break open my piggy bank when you reach home. Use that to pay for the auto.”
Me: sniggers thinking about the few one rupee coins that occupy his pint-sized piggy bank.
Me: “Father, I want you to buy me that story book. It has the story of Cinderella.”
Father: “ Dear, but you already know the story and have read it from the cartoon book you have at home.”
Me: “But father, it is already torn. That silly friend of mine tore it.”
Father: “I don’t have money to buy that dear. May be next time.”
Me: “Don’t worry, use this money.” hands over the 50 paise that grandma had given to buy chocolates.
As you can see dear reader, Karma returns always without fail. Call it Karma, destiny, luck or whatever you want. But these things called genes makes sure that it does return and messes up everything!
These days, I am updating myself with all the mischief that I did once upon a time, so that I can be prepared when my turn comes.
But then, I used to trouble my father most. Why does my son trouble me instead? Can’t he target his father?
Sigh! bites my nails in frustration thinking about the unfairness of it all.
It is but not just #AajKalKeBache! Kids during my childhood were the same!
Cover image via Shutterstock
Preethi Venugopala is a Civil Engineer by profession and an artist and writer by passion.
Very graphically expressed!
This transported me back to my childhood and the ‘conversations’ with my dear Mother!
You shall get back the same from your children!!!!!
My Mother used to say in exasperation that we children were her Gurus and yes I too have said the same to my children!
We go round in circles -inner circles and outer circles – everything is so changed and yet so much the same!!!!!
What we do at a certain moment in Time does come back to us at the right Time.
Karmic Clock keeps on ticking and is the Silent Witness!
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