MOM, THIS IS THE FIRST TIME
Mom, this is the first time I’m all on my own.
Cooking food and doing the dishes.
Sometimes burning it and just having the okay part.
Mopping the floor & working from home too.
Scratching the stubborn marks and finding dust everywhere, all the time.
Just like you used to.
Mom, this is the first time I’m all on my own.
And today I remember,
Those times when you asked me…
To keep a track of the cooker whistles.
To chop the vegetables for your ease.
To cut it long or short.
To mixer-mince or hand-crush.
To scrub the bathroom tiles.
To fold the clothes in a certain way.
To give them a jerk before hanging them.
To soak chickpeas for Saturday and almonds for everyday.
To clean the table after lunch.
To wash the water bottles once in a while.
To have ‘an instinct’ about adding salt & spices.
To dust the fan once a month.
Mom, this is the first time I’m all on my own.
I wish I remembered some more of your hacks.
I’ll watch you more closely when I visit you next.
Cause I still cannot knead the dough.
Of course, I cook with half a heart.
But I will now appreciate my cook more, with all my heart.
Mom, this is the first time I’m all on my own.
And I miss home food more than ever.
When I say home, it’s probably not the home we have now…
It’s the tiffin that I carried in school.
It’s the thought of what you would have cooked for lunch.
It’s the smell I could whiff on my way home after school.
It’s the cutlery and it’s that fixed lunch hour.
It’s the laid out feast on the table, with dad waiting.
It’s the throwing my bag and rushing straight to kitchen.
It’s the diving straight for dessert, the fruit cream.
It’s the juicy dripping mangoes leaving stains on my uniform.
It’s the repeat telecasts of the same television show.
It’s the laughters and the table conversations.
Alas! That home-food will never be back.
Mom, this is the first time I’m all on my own.
‘Saying thanks’ to you will only be the tiniest tip of the iceberg.
I’m grateful for the time you spent at home.
Looking after me and teaching me things, subconsciously.
That I will remember even in Alzheimer’s.
Mom, this is the first time,
I’m all on my own.
-uk
