Mere paas MAAA hain…..
Most friends I have; keep complaining for some or the other reason about the Bollywood style dialogue baazi at home.
I remember some one telling me that her mom says, “Tu is ghar ki laxmi hain, apni izzat apne haathon mein lekar ghoomti hain, apne ghar waalo ka maan rakh lena beti….” Every single morning.
As if the preaching wasn’t enough, the fact that it comes with such lines that you would expect from Reema Lagoo, Farida Jalal, Nirupa Roy or Rakhi Gulzar, makes an average teenager cringe more. And sticks with you through most of your adult life too.
I know of some one who still detests the fact that when he tried to sneak out a coin from the mandir in the house, was told that “kok se chor paida hua hain.” That hurts. I know.
But off late I’ve adopted this policy of accepting whatever my mom says with a pinch of salt. After all she is just as much influenced by the Bollywood dialogue baazi as I am!
Say for example, when I think of a happily married couple, my mind immediately conjures up a picture of a family of four, one boy one girl child, lady in a demure floral print saree and the man in a tee shirt and faded jeans, walking down Marine Drives at sunset, holding a balloon and some senghdana too go with the mood. Now that’s something right out of a 70’s movie end, where you’d expect a “The End” coming in from somewhere in the horizon.
To ab main hi aisi to meri maa kya hogi?
My mom is those types who would be a cross between Farida Jalal the heroine’s mom and Farida Jalal the hero’s mom. She’ll let us off when dad doesn’t and hold us back when dad lets us off. She’ll cry at our (my sis and my) good exams results, yell at us like the sky’s falling on her head and then finally take us shopping and then splurge.
There are times when she is the mini Rakhi Gulzar from Karan Arjun and horribly superstitious, at other times she is the Jaya Bachchan of KHNH. What stays constant? Dialogue baazi of course! When I say something, she calls it dialogue and now everything she says is what I call dialogue!
The fact of the matter remains that just as we are prone to react to all our life’s situations in the Bollywood way, life hasn’t remained just as romanticised. I see myself running into a guy’s arms in the middle of Sarson ke khet in the DDLJ style, but the fact of the matter remains that given a chance, I’d simply click a picture and put it up on FB, then brag to the world. “That’s me. Simran.”
I’d love to be the one at home, getting my kids’ homework done, cook some four course meal then finally put everyone off to sleep and then sit on the window staring at the moon. In reality, I’ll have a job, which won’t let me have time with my family, the kids will live in a crèche and learn to recognise the nanny their as maa, and I will be the aunty.
So then, whatever li’ll is left of this Bollywood style romantic life, with the black-slapping, canteen antakshris, running around for fests, I will enjoy. I will enjoy singing in the quadrangle, having chaai at the katta and fantasise running away and touring the world. Because what ever the reality may be, my mom will crack those Bollywood dialogues, I will sing “yeh dosti…” and turn into a hose pipe at every farewell and in the end of the day sing songs at the top of my voice like they represent what I feel.
The Bollywood in me will never die, nor will it off my mom. Or anyone’s mom for that matter. So if living happily enough means living in filmistan-created-world, so be it. Even if it means my mom deciding to enlighten me with the words, “Akeli ladki khuli tijori……”