Achan used to drop me for tuitions at Christhudas Sir's or Venugopal Sir's classes early in the morning on weekends and then used to go the museum and walk on the walkway there with Lekshmi's dad, come back to classes after one-and-a-half hours and wait for me. He would be tired, hungry, impatient to get home. When the classes got over, all kids would rush to their parents while I would be the last to come out. Achan used to say, "she talks to all her friends, their parents, the watchman, the shopkeeper, the loafers at the bus stop, she goes back to class to fetch something she left there, she again stops to smell a flower or look at a butterfly and then as an afterthought, oh Acha is waiting, comes slowly to where I'm waiting. Absolutely no regards for the person waiting, no respect to his time." He used to exaggerate and would tease me and I would be the first to come out of class for a few weeks before I went back to my usual ways. Achan still teases me saying this, so much so that when he travels and if his suitcase doesn't arrive soon on the belt at the airport, he says, "oh I carried Athira petti this time!"
Fast forward a couple of decades. P has cricket coaching every weekend. I drop him at the ground in the morning, take a walk in the garden nearby, go back to pick him, just so eager to get back home, and get started with my weekend activities. His friend V comes running. I ask him, son where is P? "Aunty, he's drinking water." Yeah of course..! My offspring drinks water, talks to his friends, laughs, does some bowling action, some pretend batting, walks in baby steps. I roll my eyes, wave at him hoping that my frantic actions would make him realise how impatient I am and hurry. No such luck. He aaraaaam se walks towards me.
Life has funny ways of getting back at you. Acha, it's late, but I know your pain now!
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