MemoryKeeper: April 16 2012

I switch off the light of the porch, as i whistle for Machku to stop messing with the poppies that are struggling to survive in the slightly chilly night and come in. She gallops back to the house, rolling her tongue as she looks sheepishly at the flower end sticking out of her ear.

Laughing at her antics, I open the door and watch her bound up the stairs heading straight to the one place she is not supposed to be going too. Standing in the living room, I rub my arms feeling the breeze caressing my goose bumps from their hidden spots. Stepping down the three stairs, I reach my favorite spot in the house, the cozy arm chair with the warm reading light, that seems to bekon to me to curl in and read.

My eyes linger longingly at the half open book, carelessly tossed on the side table, the still warm coffee mug that promises nirvana and the characters beckon me to return. Its a Manju Kapoor book, her latest was giggling like a school girl when i bought it at the bookstore just this morning and groaning like a pregnant women with desperate food cravings as she described, Veda the protagonist gulping Puchkas on the street and savoring Bhel puri while withstanding the Kolkatta rains. Missed home then acutely, getting transported into the gullies of Kolkatta... to the everlasting summer vacations and walks that centered around the location and proximity of the snack stalls. Shit, I could kill to eat some of that spicy tangy unhygenic roadside nonsense right now. The supermarket, sterile version of the packaged yellow thing seemed like a apology that Sydney was trying to make for depriving me........

CRASH........... and a whimpering bark. Ohhhhhhh no! She has done it again!

Bhelpuri forgotten in seconds, I stop my time travel to rush half yelling half dreading the scene i can only anticipate awaits me. Pausing at the open kitchen table, for a the ever so useful tissue box, i head up the wodden staircase, without registering the tiny photographs that litter the walls, or the mirror that had never been set straight after the afternoons mock debacle....

Yup. thought as much. Machku dear at her best. Trying hard to conceal my smile, i watched her trying to squirm below the crib, pretending to be invisible. She knew she was in trouble and her defense was to feign ignorance.. What me? Like really you think I woke up little Kabir? Come on you really think i was hovering around the crib trying to steal a stolen moment of intimacy? lick a baby .. and me! NEVER!!!............

Thankfully, chottu Kabir was still to groggy to care. Whimpering a false note or two of protest he gave me a "its ok mom" relax kinda yawn and decided to return to his little world of fairy tale dreams.

Unable to resist, i sat down next to Machku and lay my head on her belly. Surprised at this turn of events, she happily licked my hand before flattening out on the floor. We both sat there, watching Kabu babies face, register the emotions of his dreams.

I watched the eye lashes, crinkle and the forehead crease. as he battled the baby hippo in his sleep, wearing his favorite ninja pants... saw his fists pump the air , and his baby fingers open up .. i slipped my finger in and he grasped it tight. so tight before collapsing his fist back on his chest.. Guess the baby Hippo had been sent packing to wherever he came from.

Like 2 old wives Machku and me sat peacefully, breathing in sync content at the warmth the little room seemed to create.. for what seemed like aeons.

Feeling hungry, i realize its already quarter past eight. Time seemed to have flown this Saturday what with the morning yoga studio session, the lazy breakfast with Kabu eating little bites of apple for the first time, to the applause of the sparrows and Machku managing to topple Nandu the turtle down the stairs. Husband dear had to make an emergency and trip to the vet to ensure that Nandu had not broken any bones.

The best part was sitting in the upstairs swing, him and me, just talking trivia. Hanging out! kidding around at who had won the fastest " i can get him to sleep in minutes competition", discussing the location for the dinner and the HUGE surprise that i had planned for him,. speaking of which!

Fuck i am so screwed.. dragging machku from her own hippo dreams, i raced downstairs and furiously began preparing for the surprise. Sheesh, i hope his tennis game goes on till the third set and i get some more time.

Pulling packets, tearing up the seasoning dinner is a quick gobbling session. Its food and lots of it thats needed to make sure he does not faint. as he keeps insisting that tennis shall make him do.. Sala Drama king. Shoving everything in the microwave, I hide the Manju Kapoor to ensure first readers rights and hop into the shower, much to the disgust of the silly dog.

Whew! almost done. 2 min to 8.30 pm and am set. ........ perfect timing.. missy ! the car swings in, the garage door creaks open, as the remote manages to get it act together and i hear laughter as he walks in through the door chattering non stop about his finest forehand that killed Mr. Showoffs game....

shaking my head, i watch my retarded grin spread all over my face, as i am engulfed in a bear hug, while listening to the magical strokes that did Mr. showoff in. Uff this man, this boy, this Goose of a character.. this pathetically crazy about life mad hatter.. who in the world did we end up here? and why in gods name did it take us so long?

i nestle into him, tuning into the conversation that is being bombarded into my ears, realizing it is now all FICTION.. Kill bill type razor strokes.. Like Really!.. I nip his chest and giggle as he yelps into the phone staring at me in mock horror... ASS!! Shut up and hang up will u............. and he does.

Disconnecting with the world and connecting home. All his love all his energy felt in his warm embrace, his soft eyes as he wrestles the wet towel out of Machkus mouth, only to be flattened against the floor.. haha somethings never change.......