The three sisters

Most of the time they sat huddled together in the bedroom coming out only for their meals or to watch their favourite soaps on TV. One of them humorously named the room as ‘ old-age home’. Three sisters (my mother and her two younger sisters ) were meeting after a gap of 2 years. One is 88 years old, second 80 and the third (the most active of them all) 75 years.

I marveled at their energy, the amount of talking they could do all 24*7 except while sleeping which was very little. Must be catching up with all the news. I did a bit of eaves-dropping to find out as to what they were chatting about so excitedly all the time ? Mostly it was about their childhood, their parents and their siblings who are no more. They were 9 brothers and sisters, only these 3 surviving now. Their talks mainly centered on their mother who ,widowed at the age of 32 had to struggle to bring up 8 children ( the eldest daughter had got married by then ), their food, education and marriage.

Sometimes I heard them giggling reminiscencing about some of their secret admirers or suitors…

One of the agendas my aunts had during their stay was to give a smart look to their elder sister ie; my mother. They were able to convince her about the advantages of wearing a gown instead of the traditional ‘mundu’ (which me and my sisters had failed to do so far). To inspire her further my aunts sported some of their own gowns with laces, bows and frills. Finally my mother gave in. I could see that she was quite thrilled about her new smart look. Then one of my aunts suggested to cut her hair short so that it becomes manageable . With a twinkle in her eyes my aunt added that the new hair do will make her look like Vijayalakshmy Pandit with all those golden locks. Mother didn’t like the idea. She felt it was too old fashioned. She preferred to look like Ms. Gursharan Kaur (our Prime Minister’s wife ). “ She looks Khandaani and modern enough,” said my mother. My aunts had to settle for that.

Item no.2 in the agenda was to feed my mother with all the delicacies they could lay their hands on in the market including hot chilly pakoras. I was worried about my mother’s delicate stomach, but who cares ? She enjoyed every bit of the attention she was getting ,behaving like a thoroughly spoilt child.

Occasionally ,my aunts’ attention will turn to me .This was item no.3 in the agenda. So there were constant advise and tips on health food, yoga ,ayurveda, spirituality and what not! After all for them I was still a kid !

But by the end of this one month’s ‘sisters-get-together’ I could not even pretend to be polite.

Finally the holiday was over and it was time for them to part. Whispering a soft ‘take care’ to each other they got into the waiting car. My mother stood at the gate watching the car slowly picking up speed, her eyes moist with unshed tears. Slowly she walked back to the house, her back bent with age, leaning on the walking stick, her only support . I know that she is going to miss them for quite some time. Suddenly I felt jealous of these sisters who belonged to an era to which I can never belong.