Mommy Logic

I was in India a few weeks ago, attending a wedding (predictable, eh?). I landed in Mumbai on a bloody dry day. My friends couldn’t believe it when I told them that in Canada, the sarkaar, instead of rationing and controlling booze, actually peddles it!

Anyways, it’s not about Rums Up that I intended to write, but about the unassailable twisted logic of my old darling mom. You know how a trip to India is. Between buying the kurtas, the leather jacket and the curios for Indophile gora friends, there’s very little time to chill. And if you have a high-strung shaadi thrown in, God help you.

The very day I arrived, mom gave me a long list of relatives to meet. Another, longer list featured relatives I ought to at least call. Bangalore, Hyderabad, Pune, Delhi, and all over. “If you cant meet them, you must at least call them”. “Mom”, I argued, “What’s the point of calling if I’m not going to visit? I could just call them from Canada. If we are to only talk on the phone, what difference does it make if we do it across continents or across a few hundred miles?”

But you can’t argue an emotional point with a desi mom and win. “It’s too expensive to call from Canada”, said Mom. “No it isn’t. not the way I call”, I countered. “Don’t be mean. They love you”, she pleaded. “I love them too. But what’s that got to do with it?”, I asked. “They’ll be happy to know you’re close by”, was her next ploy. “They’ll never guess I’m calling from abroad. They’ll think I’m next door. It’s so clear”, I said.

And then she used the one unbeatable weapon in every maternal arsenal – emotional blackmail. “Won’t you do it for me?”, she said with in a cunningly quivering voice. Of course I had to call. And they’ve all extracted promises that I’ll call them more often. Thank heavens I discovered trueroots! It’s the only way I can afford to get sentimental.

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