Magical May

It seems just the other day when, clutching my finger tightly with her tiny hand, the little one walked towards the bus stand, school bag perched firmly on her back. 7.15 A.M and we’d be off, to the corner down the lane we lived in, straight walk and a right turn, ten minutes in all-and waited for the familiar bus to amble into sight. Attired in their smart school uniforms, the pristine white of the starched shirt off-setting the navy blue skirt, admirably complemented by the white socks and polished black shoes, these little girls-yes more of them converged at this point from different directions –made a pretty picture as they waited for the bus to carry them forth to school and enlightenment. As the mother of one such girl, I would study their excited faces, listen to their endless chatter or simply observe the quieter ones, who preferred standing under the shady tree that grew right there, as if its sole purpose in life was to shade them from the morning sun.

They say a lecturer’s job is a cushy one. One is not sure if that is applicable in today’s day and time, but in those halcyon days of the early nineties, this sure was true. A normal working day meant leaving home around 9 A.M and after a ‘tiring’ schedule of two to three lectures, being back by 2 P.M, at the latest. Such were the timings, that a working mother didn’t suffer the pangs of conscience that have become a part of the collective working mothers’ psyche now; that she wasn’t spending ‘quality time’ with her kids. For here it was a perfect setting: early morning, escort the little ones to the bus stand and come afternoon, be right there to pick them up! As sonny boy grew older, this ritual kind of waned but in the case of the little gal, it pretty much remained the same-right till the time she was in the 4^th or perhaps 5^th standard. No matter where I was, no matter what the schedule or season, I would turn homeward the minute the hands of my wrist watch indicated that 3 P.M was approaching. The foot on the accelerator subconsciously pressed harder as I would make my way home on those ‘specially hectic’ days when one had to work oneself to the bones (read for more than four hours) and my tryst with the bus stand seemed threatened. But no matter what the task at hand, I always managed to be there, in the nick of time to pick up daughter dear. On most days, this routine used to be different (as I would come home first and then walk to the bus stand after lunch) and it was only on ‘extra heavy’ days that the need to go there directly arose.

In other words, this rendezvous was sacrosanct and over a period of time, became a habit.

Cut to the present. So much water has flown under the bridge!
May 2012.
For more than a month now, we followed a fixed routine when we went out together but the scene was quite different from the mom and li’l girl one all those years ago. The day now started with the not-so-little-one and me getting ready, but not for school and college respectively. Instead, we would both be headed for similar destinations-our workplace. No more the school uniform and black shoes…instead, there was sober office wear and formal shoes, complemented by a smart bag hung from the shoulder, as my girl would step into the car along with me, a mature, adult companion, walking shoulder-to-shoulder (a head taller, actually!) making interesting small talk as we made our way to her drop-point: the Noida City Centre metro station. She took off for work every morning after being dropped by me and I carried on to my office, two equals in the corporate world. At the end of the day, and again my timings were so well coordinated, I invariably found myself at this modern ‘bus stand’, waiting, as her mode of travel would bring her back home.

As the saying so tellingly goes, the wheel has come full circle. A lot has changed: the little one has grown up and found her vocation; she doesn’t need to be accompanied every day, it’s just a practical arrangement, a pretext to spend some extra time together, but what has remained unchanged is the immense joy and pride I take in watching her take confident strides into a world just waiting to be conquered.