Gifts of Love

I remember when we used to go to Baroda for the vacations. I’d always be excited that we’d be meeting Puri mummy, Mamaji, and my cousins Charu (baby- name, now Hersh) and Nanhu (now Karan; both then and now he arouses very strong maternal instincts in me). Before we went to Baroda, Mamma would get busy buying gifts for everyone. Charu ke liye kya loon?  Nanhu ke liye kya loon? It’s only now when I’m older I realize that my Mom expresses her love by giving gifts and I’m almost sure that’s her primary love language. Whenever I go over to Saket, she always has something to give me. I don’t think I’ve bought an office bag for myself in years (if ever?).  The metallic grey multi-pocketed Esbeda bag I’m using now, the Black shiny brief-case style bag before that, the black and grey croc print bag before that and the big black carry-all with the sequins all over (the one where I left an apple and forgot to take it out for ages) are all bought by her. She has good taste and she expands my style. I’d probably have thought that the current Esbeda bag was boring and not bought it, but it’s actually really nice and organized and I quite love it. The shiny black bag wasn’t really my style because it was too shiny with some gold details and zips, but I think it did make me feel more grown-up, and the big black sequins bag was simply amazing, beautiful and purposeful. I’d have hesitated buying that myself because of the sequins but really, I love that bag. This reminds me of the time when I was around 7 or 8 or 9. Mamma bought me a frock the day she’d gone to Warden Road to meet Beena aunty. I was very angry when I saw the frock though I don’t remember exactly why. Maybe it was that I had asked her to get a skirt-top and she got a frock? Or maybe I didn’t like it too much at initial glance but felt it’ll get “counted” as a new frock and so I’d lose out on the chance to buy a dress of my own taste. I’ll ask her about it, maybe she remembers why I didn’t like the frock at first. I had quite a temper even at that young age and I remember this as a “bad fight day” which probably ended with mum saying, mat pehnna and feeling unappreciated. But then I absolutely grew to love that dress ­— it was sleeveless georgette, blue from top to waist, and then flared into a satin, printed skirt that I think had a little bit of white but mostly lilac and shades of blue. There was also a little jacket to wear with it that matched that skirt. It was one of my favorite dresses in my childhood.