Truck Truck Truck !

choI feel John Denver must be in a very brave mood when he crooned “Country Roads, take me home” . Because in around twenty days since I moved back to home after three years , I notice that adjusting to home is not exactly as easy as singing a song . Though with a voice like mine , singing a song is not easy either.

Of course, I need to be a politician to deny the good things with coming at home .Round the clock food , a car to drive, and a TV remote which can be procured after a briefly violent argument with sister are the perks which come with it. But in this entire exercise , there is one entity which considers me stupid , careless and in urgent need of a attitude restructuring – Mum.

If all the things mum tells me could be written in a book , these days she is writing a big chapter called ‘Abhi-The worst and most rash driver in the world’. Whenever I slip in the driving seat with mum buckled in the seat next to me , I know I am in for a lecture on how to drive , from a lady who incidentally , doesn’t know driving herself . I would be cruising down the road as smooth as a Katrina’s leg , when she would suddenly pip up “Munnu ! Truck Truck Truck !”. I would hit the brakes instantly , the car behind me would swerve and the driver would give me the ‘I-will-eat-your-kids-next-time-you-do-that’ as he passes me by , and then I would turn to my mom and ask “Where is the killer truck !”. “Did not you see such a monster , it just zoomed away !” , she would say pointing to the road on the other side of the divider .And so my mom would keep imagining all the truck drivers in Delhi are paid to fly over the dividers and crush us to a road painting and since I could not imagine that , I am a the agent of death when it come to driving. I mean , while we are watching the TV together , she would suddenly start shaking her head and say “I still can’t believe how you almost killed that cyclist this morning” , and I would silently wonder ‘Cyclist ? Who cyclist?”.

And she has warned me that if I eat any more maggi , she would tell Dad how I once burned his tie as a kid . Now , when a single guy stays away from home for three years , you can be sure he is deriving half of his nutrition from Maggi , the other half coming from booze and dope. And suddenly mom wants me to give maggi up and get back to the world of aloo mutter and chapattis . I can almost visualise the strands of maggi crying out "Nahi munnu ,after all that we have been through ,tum aise nahi jaa sakte!" , reaching out to me valiantly as my mum pulls me away from them mercilessly.

And of course , then there is the precious question most mothers start to consider once their sons start bringing home boxes of peanuts known as salaries – When should I get him married ? In my case , to add to the colors , I have already been through a marriage which almost happened before things got wrong , so she has some added side-questions to consider .

Anyway , I will leave my mum to the noble task of turning me into a safe driving , aloo mutter eating husband and get back to striking things off my To-Do list for today . On a personal note , life has been a collage of to-do lists , planning how to boost sales for Bingo , managing things at home in absence of Dad , and trying to watch Star Movies when Mom wants to watch Star Plus and sister wants to watch Sony .

So I am off to the market for some work now .And mom , do not worry , I am not taking out the car , I will just walk down.