MUM, your MOM is actually your MOM :D

In my early days in Chennai, I had to confront a lot of things altogether. Coming from a joint family of 10 members I was suddenly shifted with my grandparents. The ratio was 10:3 = 3.33. Meaning I had to grow three folds at once to adjust to the present lifestyle. But I had other issues to handle too, like emotional instability (living away from home is not easy), adjustment (which is a pre-requisite when you leave home and fly to a different place), courtesy(in which I lacked) and I could make a full list, but in-short, I was just not READY for the shift.

Yeah my mom did teach me a few extra skills before sending me here, one of it being cooking thinking it would be nice if I helped my grandparents in the kitchen. That is what she thought I needed to survive here, cooking skills. (Though she tried teaching me other things too, like how to manage ones life, but I couldn’t take out time for it, I was always busy with my studies.)

But she was wrong. That was the last thing they expected from me here. They wouldn’t even want me in the kitchen because there they disliked anybody else’s interference, specially of someone who didn’t had any prior experience in it.

So what did they want from me? And why am I writing this article today? Using my phone and tracking the time I found out that I have spent around 900 days here. Almost two-and-a-half years. Then suddenly what special happened today?

I folded the blanket perfectly.

The following is a story about my blanket, which is just a blanket for me, but for you it can be anything. Your cupboard? You dining table? Maybe your entire room or maybe the habit of misplacing your wallet everyday in spite of your mom telling you the correct place for it a thousand times already. Actually my blanket could be the entire YOU. And I folded mine perfectly today, so yeah… goodluck to you too!

DAY 1-

I woke up at 6 to get ready for college. Brushed, bathed, collected my tiffin box and left.

DAY 2-


DAY 6-


It was a Saturday and there wasn’t any college today. Woke up at 8, Sun shining bright at my head, brushed, had milk and relaxed. At 10, I saw the unorganized room and arranged the pillows and folded the thin red-blanket. It appearing obviously pretentious than desired, because it wasn’t done with interest. But that was how we did it at my home, making the blanket into three-four folds and dumping it onto the pile with the other blankets and pillows. Everyone dumped their blankets together and that particular place would be little messy, but my family would like it just that way because we were accustomed to that mess. It appeared beautiful to us.

But when I came here, that beautiful picture was termed ugly. A sudden change of terms and definitions left me irritated.

This is not the way to fold it”, said my grandma, unfolded and did it herself when I cared less even to look at her and was busy with my personal work.

Also I was surprised by finding out my untidy room arranged perfectly every day when I came back from college. I started taking it for granted.

DAY 7- Sunday

ROOM- mess.

This is not the way to fold it”, said my grandma, unfolded and did it herself when I cared less even to look at her and was busy with my personal work.

DAY 15- Saturday

This is not the way to fold it”, said my grandma, unfolded and did it herself when I looked at her and said, “that is the way we used to do it at home.”

“Really? Then I will have to talk to your mom about it.”

“yeah sure!” I was growing more and more irritated. She was challenging my past. That was the way I lived and I didn’t want to CHANGE or LEARN from HER. I thought “I AM CORRECT, SHE IS WORNG.”

Well that was certainly not the case, but I was blinded.

The first light came to me I think on Day 35 when I gave up on my ego and my strongly held beliefs and TRIED to fold it like my grandma. I FAILED.

Yeah it sounds foolish when I say I failed to fold the blanket when sit everyday in a class of to-be engineers.

“we build the world”, said a professor while teaching us about the soil and structures in the first year. Well what a shame, I couldn’t even do the blanket!

But let me tell you, it wasn’t just some folding. There were linked threads. My thin-red-blanket had a small patch of threads at two of its edges, maybe some decorating technique the weaver had choosen. Well thank you sweetheart, I may not have written this article if those two edges had not had that patch of threads coming out!

DAY 100-

I tried to look at her, tried to learn how she did it.

DAY 150-

I went for vacations to home and forgot about all about the discipline.

DAY 155- (assumed to be a Saturday)

I tried to do it again.

This is not the way to fold it”, said my grandma, unfolded it and did it herself when I looked at her very carefully.

DAY 156- (assumed to be Sunday)

I tried and succeeded!


This is not the way to fold it, the threads shouldn’t be seen or it looks untidy.”, said my grandma, unfolded it and did it herself.

“but I did it properly this time! C’mon! You are over doing it!” and that day I called up my mum and complained, “she is over-doing it!”

DAY 200-

I started folding it nicely and she would still unfold and do it again but only a few times in a month.

DAY 900-

She never does it again now. She doesn’t have to. Now the threads are never seen. They hide somewhere beneath the careful folds and the room is neat with the pillows on their place and the books on the shelf.

She transformed me from, being an irritated -> unwilling to learn -> to calm -> willing to learn -> to learned.

I thank her. Though it’s just a blanket, but it taught me great lessons of my life lying underneath its folds.

You want to see that thing? That beautiful-thin-red-baby of mine whom I sleep with every night? Hold on!



One thought on “MUM, your MOM is actually your MOM :D

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s