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[usaiha2]

Pavithra Cooks for her Son Prakash

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I am Prakash. People use to call me a nerd, and I guess I was one. I topped my classes while in school, went to an IIT, and then resisting the temptation to do an MBA continued further with my technical education and to cut a long story short ended up being a bigger nerd. Well actually I ended up being a scientist.

When most of my colleagues went over to the US, I somehow wanted to continue in India, and landed a great job (in my mind) at a research lab of a leading Indian company (which I cannot name!) in Pune.
The pay was good, but more importantly I was engaged in research that I hoped will make difference to the world and to our country.
I was happy, but my father, Mr Krishnamurthy was not. He felt that I should have gone to the US, taken an MNC job etc etc. I tried arguing and after a shouting match on my last visit (4 months back), decided to rest the case. My father was in the financial services industry, and a classic corporate biggie who defined success in terms of fancy cars, overseas visits and corporate parties. My younger sister who was in medical college was also of the opinion that I was an idiot to have “wasted” my chance to “escape India”. Well I did not care for either of their opinion.
I cared about the opinion and feelings of the one person in my family that I was attached to the most. My mother, Pavithra Krishnamurthy. I have to confess, I adore her, and I would have been upset if she had also found fault with my decision. But she as she had been over the years, fully supportive, and was genuinely pleased.
I still remember the warm hug and teary eyes, when I announced the news 3 months back. She had murmured how happy she was and how proud she was. And I loved her for that.
Now I am in Pune, in a lovely apartment the company had provided me in the city. It was fully furnished and they had also provided me with a car. I had settled down, and went to work with a vengeance. Soon I was so engrossed in work that I started neglecting food, and sleep. I still managed my regular morning exercise and yoga that kept me sane. I loved the work, so I did not mind. But my body did, and I started getting ill frequently. I tried to hide this from my family, not that my father cared, but my mother did care, and she found this out. And she tried to make me relax and slow down, and eat better. I respected her - but was still not able to get control of my meals and continued to depend on fast food and takeaways.
Then one day my mother called and announced that she is coming to stay with me for a few weeks. There was not stopping her, and the fact that my father had to go to Singapore on a long deputation for 6 months helped her to make a decision. In fact I was not unhappy with this. I loved her cooking !. I loved her.
I went to pick her up from the tiny Pune Airport. As she came out from the Airport, I could not help but look at her. She was wearing an elegant cotton kurta and her hair was pulled up in a fashionable bun. She looked so good.
My mother. She was 41, but she looked younger and fitter than when I had last seen her. Yes there were a few strands of silver in her hair. Her breasts sagged lower than they used to, and her stomach had gotten bigger. She had always been full-bodied, but now she was even plumper. And I liked her like this.
But her eyes were the same. They sparkled with joy at seeing me, and I felt a hot stinging in my own. I stepped toward her as she let go off the suit case, and we hugged.
How nice it was to hug someone who didn't have anything to hide, who didn't have a plan for whether I would be allowed to have a real hug or an artificial one. No. This was just my Amma. A warm, soft hug, and I buried my face in her neck and clung on for dear life. I buried myself in the pillowy softness of her comforting body.
She hugged me right back, her body pressing against mine, stomach to stomach, her chest squished against mine, and we stayed like that for a long time. Then she pulled her head back, and gave me a kiss. Right on my lips.
It was weird. I had never kissed her on the lips before, we were in India, not in the US!, and I started to pull back, but then somewhere inside myself I shrugged and instead kissed her back. It wasn't a sexual kiss, just a warm pressing of lips upon lips, and hers were soft and yielding and pliant. After a second we stopped.
She lifted her hands to cup my face, and then said, "Hello, Kanna (she used to call me that when she was feeling affectionate)." Tears formed at the corner of her eyes, but didn't fall. Instead she just smiled at me.
"Hi, Amma," I replied. "Had a good flight?."
I stepped aside and picked up the two suitcases she had on the stroller.
"Oh, Amma," I said over my shoulder. "What do you have in here, rocks?"
She laughed.
I carried the suitcases into the car and we headed out to my apartment. We were talking lik long lost friends, she had so many questions and I was so happy to answer her, marveling at the way she understood things, how she appreciated what I was doing.
We reached my place, and she said “This is super Prakash”
“Thanks Amma, you were not expecting this” I asked
She followed me into the bedroom, where I was placing her suitcases. "No, I mean, not so nice, really, but I am so happy for you" she replied.

"Thank you Amma " I turned to face her.
She looked back at me, her eyes traveling down my body and then back up to my face. "You look famished Kanna" she stated.
I looked self-consciously down at my body. "Yea, I lost a lot of weight in the last few months."
She smiled.
I paused, then said, "But you have lost some weight too, and you look great, too." I meant it, too. She may have been round, but to me she was the essence of motherhood, and her lush body was perfect for her.
She smiled. "You think so"
"Seriously."
She put her arms out, causing her breasts to lift up under her kurta, and then she brought her hands toward her chest, trying to press the cloth to her belly to show me that she has indeed lost weight, this action outlined an exaggerated hourglass shape down her body. "You really think this old lady is okay?"
"Amma," I said with mock exasperation in my voice, "Yes. You look fantastic."
She laughed again. "Well, thanks, Kanna."
"I'm not all that bad, Amma. Look." I pointed to my biceps rolling up the sleeves of my t-shirt.
“Still working our then eh, Prakash” she said coming closer and made a big show of inspecting my arms, pressing on my muscles. For some reason her touch sent a shiver down my spine, and I swayed a little, and ended up leaning against her a little, my elbow pushing against her breast and my chin against her forehead.
She didn't move away, just stopped touching my head, and said, "What am I looking for?"
I laughed and stood straight. "My muscles"
"Oh, my baby has become a man," she teased.
"I'm glad you're here," I confessed after a short silence.
"Me too," she confided.
I turned her around and gently pushed her out of the door of the bedroom and into the hall. "Do you want anything after your trip?" I asked. "Some tea or water? Or something to eat?"
"I'd just like to freshen up a bit and change my clothes. And then let us get dinner."
"Sure Amma, that would be nice."

She pushed past me into the bedroom and then I heard her say, "I'll be out in a few minutes. I went into my room and sat down at the computer.