You don't realize what you've got... until its gone!

Her absence is disquieting, the silence is deafening. Initially you hurrah her exit - finally you can do what you please - but it only takes a few lonely hours to snap out of your reverie, suddenly realizing there's pin-drop silence in the house. I don't like it. It renders me restless and cranky. Just like Kamal Hasan in that brilliant movie 'Pushpak' who couldn't sleep without the theatre's loud acoustics running in the background, I need Mom's voice ringing in my head, else it makes me uneasy - her rattling out a thousand instructions, yapping with the maid and relaying endless orders at the speed of 100 orders/min, talking loudly on the phone with her friends, yelling at me since I won't help her out in the kitchen, snapping at me coz I ate out again, complaining to me coz she fought with sis once more, emotionally blackmailing me to consider that 'perfect match' again..... I miss all that! In normal circumstances, I'd be mighty annoyed with her for being such a motormouth. But when she's away, even for a few days, she is sorely missed.

That brings me to a more important question - whatever am I going to do when I move away from home, from her? I realize I am SO dependent on Mom for so many things. Piping hot and lovingly prepared dinner is ready for me when I reach home from work, my bed is reset and my room is neat and in order. I am coerced to eat more, something that I would certainly give a miss when she's not around. A patient ear is also offered, which I gladly accept, in order to recount the day's highs and lows. But all this may very well come to an end. Soon I may have to be on my own. It frightens me to think of how I shall cope. The prospect of departing from under her wings is scary, yet unavoidable.

I don't know why I am missing her so dearly this time around. This is the perhaps the umpteenth time that I am alone at home while Mom has gone away for a while. Maybe its only normal. Or maybe its the looming near of that one important day in every girl's life. The day when she has to leave her home of 25-odd years and shift base to another. I wonder how Mom did it. Or any other woman for that matter. It is a terrifying thought. Maybe I should adopt Mr. Hasan's ways. A recorder will be of great service, for starters.