My mother watches monkey videos.
I am a single child of my parents, born 12 years after their marriage. By then, they had given up on the prospect of having a kid (as my mother told me). So when I came into this world, they were ecstatic. They (excessively) pampered and (overly) protected me, as middle-age, first-time parents generally do.
My father was away (for his job) and I only got to spend some time with him on weekends.
Maa was always there with/for me. Naturally, I was (extremely) close to her.
I was the center of her universe.
I still am.
Infants and toddlers of all mammal species have a similar behavioral pattern. They are heavily dependent on their mothers. Little monkeys stick to their bellies. The mums don’t let them out of their sights. It’s ingrained in their genetics to act in this manner. But as the babes grow up, their dependence on their old lady decreases. It is bound to cause the mum some (or more) pain.
When I grew up (right from my pre-teens), I (naturally) was not as close to my mother as earlier. Maa complained I was not as innocent as I was as a pup.
When I left home for college, my communication with her further weakened. I am not a big talker on the phone. She wished to know what I did during my days, what my friends were like, and so on. Replying to such requests was totally counterintuitive to my nature. Calling home once every day was enough for me. She complained about my aloofness. There was a gap between her expectations and my response towards them.
Before I digress even more, let me return to where I started this piece-- monkey videos.
Maa started watching these videos about a year back (as she told me). I could hear a continuous screeching noise coming from her phone. They were whiny irritating cries of monkeys, I found out later. At first, it made no sense to me. Dogs and cats are cute, so are elephants and rabbits.
Monkeys are bloody obnoxious. I have faced their nuisance first-hand- during my graduation days in New Delhi. My PG was near a dense forest (in the Dhaula Kuan area) where these idiots resided. Every other evening, they visited our colony in Satya Niketan for food. If the door of the balcony was (mistakenly) left open, they entered the flat, opened the fridge, and looted (so we made it a point to keep it shut).
These loons were really stubborn. They didn’t scare at all. When we threw stones at them, they didn’t even flinch. When confronted, they opened their mouths wide, showcasing a whole set of their sharp, pointy teeth. It is their scare tactic. A rabid monkey’s bite can even cause rabies.
So as one could guess by now, I don’t have any empathy for these dolts.
Maa customarily views videos of adopted baby monkeys. They mostly have a human mother taking care of them. She feeds them, plays with them, and even dresses them. Some apes are cute. I love orangutan and chimpanzee videos. They are smart, courteous, cute and aesthetically pleasing. Watching them in their habitats is a treat.
The ones my mother loves so much are ugly. When clothed, they look even uglier.
But Maa is not in it for their appearance.
The monkeys are programmed to stick to their mum’s bellies. The adoptive mothers cannot fulfill these needs. They do as much as they can, but it’s not enough for the baby. They want to cling on to their (adoptive) mother’s bodies, but they are shrugged off, and told off. They cry and whine.
Maa doesn’t like this arrangement. She complains about the adoptive parent’s insensitiveness. Yet she keeps watching. She has excess love she can’t impart. Their need for care and touch are not being met.
As with all things, when supply meets demand, we reach equilibrium.
When I realized this, I felt a bit guilty. I didn’t make myself available to Maa- for dispersing the pent up love she had inside of her heart.
I have been living with her 24*7 for about 6 months now. We will be staying together for at least another 8 months. I have started hugging her each day, and speaking to her about trivial things. The latter is a great pain to me personally; but some things have to be done. I am learning to cook, which has brought us close.
Still there are days when I don’t talk to her all day. I am busy with my leisure and my commitments. She complains about it. But I can’t be her monkey. I can pretend for some time. But I can’t be her full time monkey.
Just like the monkeys’ adoptive mums can’t fulfill all their needs.
It’s the bitter truth.
I surely will regret my actions when Maa is not around anymore. Everyone is bound for some dread and remorse at their parents’ passing.
Or perhaps I’ll make more of an effort.
🤞🤞
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