My Folks!!

The old man

 Where did he get it from? I mean the stoicism and expressionless demeanor I have seen countless times. I have always wanted to ask him about it; I know what he’d tell me; he’d say, “Son, go out there and find out.”. Although he has been present all my life, we have never had deep conversations until recently. I thought he was harsh. I didn’t see it then, but I do now, the outside world is telling me as much, you are becoming a man now. We met over the weekend, there is no figuring out what he thinks, he just watches, doesn’t say much either, always calm like the sleep of a soul blessed. How could he not? My siblings and I, we all pay homage to him. He’s been honest; on days he’s feeling generous, he shares stories from when he was young. Tales from when he’d gotten scholarships from the University of Pennsylvania and Panjab University, he couldn’t go. He had asked for help, he didn’t get it, this was still in the 80s, not many people were moneyed. Oldie said he learned his lesson from that; rarely have I seen him ask for help. I am like that as well; I see where the ambition and machoism come from. I am his son. I think he’s starting to see it too, the other day he asked me to preside over a family event, he’s testing my wit, I know he is. He’s a chess master; we played when I was little. I have seen it a million times; he’s very calculative. I saw the questions he was asking; it was written all over his face: can I trust you? Maybe he does, lately; he’s been telling me some of the things he’s been up to. He’s no longer giving directives, we now speak in hush tones, he’s passing down nuggets of wisdom, how can I not respect a man like him??  

The Old Lady

Where do I start? Nothing could wipe away her smile when she saw me walk up to greet her. We hadn’t seen each other in three months. I was on a work assignment. She was elated; she said I looked great; hers are the only compliments I believe. She’s very strong-willed; I have never seen her hold back when I came home shabby and emaciated. We reminisced over the times I was a dreadhead; then she had believed I was lost. In fact, she had held an intervention for me. When that didn’t work, she pulled me aside herself. Just like her, I was headstrong; the conversation did not end how she’d wanted; I made her cry, I’m sorry mama; I will live with that for the rest of my life. She’s happy now, the prodigal son returned. I am making amends. She’s told me stories too, tales of when Pops and her met. She’s held her own; we have all seen it. See, she was retrenched right before I was born, but they made it work. She has been industrious; her business acumen is unmatched. I would like a woman like her, a rare breed. I have sent that prayer to God and the universe as well. I have learnt the value of social currency from her. We get visitors a lot; they come loaded with in-kind gifts. Mom says true friendships aren’t built overnight. I would like to build something similar. True friendships are a culmination of sacrifice, attention, and time, she says. When it was time to leave, she pulled me aside; she said I was becoming the son she had prayed for and that God heard her prayers. Before we parted, she asked for a grandchild. I laughed. Mom said they have added another cow at home; there’ll be plenty of milk for the little one. How could I forget? She calls every morning between 7 and 8 am to give her blessings, how can I not love her??