Small Talk

‘‘There?’’, a message pops up in my Gmail window. The time-tested breach of privacy, in spite of the invisible mode. But then, it’s my mother at our ‘family time’ on a Saturday evening. 17:45 hours on the German Clock and 21:15 hours IST. Not too early for me, not too late for my family. “Yes, I’ll come on Skype.”, I type in. After an endless check of my credentials, Skype tells me that Microsoft now owns it. I click on the equivalent of “Like I care!” and place a video call to ‘BastiHomeFalnir’. A click tells me that the call went through, but the slow DSL line at home shows me a black screen loading and finally a pixilated series of images of my charming mother shows up. I ignore the recommendation to switch off the video due to poor call quality and focus the webcam on myself.

In spite of this weekly routine for over a year now, there is always enough to ‘report to the headquarters’. I begin by telling mom my overall score from the last semester and she wants to know - “So at what position do you stand in the class?” After sidelining the question for which I don’t know the answer and don’t intend to find out, I tell her about our trip planned for the next weekend. She says she loved the pictures from the last one and is so happy that I am getting to see such lovely places at ‘this young age’. I still can’t believe that I am 25 already, but I mentally add ‘Sponsor parents’ Europe trip’ to my ever growing ‘To do once I make enough money’ list. She asks me “What was special for lunch today?” and I go on to narrate all our experiments in the kitchen during the past week. Starting with a few kitchen tips, the expert cook goes on to dictate one of her award winning recipes to me. I stop her midway and ask her to send it in an email instead. The only thing I can remember about food is the taste and the amazing sleep that follows!

Just then my brother barges in, making a fuss about needing the computer and the call taking too long. He is to leave for Bangalore to pursue MCA in a couple of days. Mom calls me in to do the dirty work of enlightening him with my ‘wisdom’ before he sets out into the ‘real world’. I take my cue from his 2nd yawn within the 3rd minute of my lecture and decide to cut it short to a “All the very best! Make us proud!” After some more small talk, he leaves, but not before reminding Amma that she has only 5 more minutes to finish the call. Mom is elated about his rank when it mattered and that he has in her words, “found a path for his life”.

Dad suddenly takes the ‘hot seat’ for a rapid-fire round. He brings me up to date with the latest from our family circle and all the happenings in Mangalore that I missed being away. I repeat all the news from my end and ask him about his work. “All is well by God’s grace”, he says and asks me if I find time for sports or any other form of exercise. As I tell him about suryanamaskara in the mornings, he notices that its 10pm, time for CID on Sony TV and takes my leave. Mummy returns! She talks of her loot at the fish market that morning and about the ‘Sungta Hingaudda’ (Prawn Curry) and ‘Tallele Visonu’ (Fish Curry) that they relished remembering me. I suck in the sudden gush of saliva and quickly count the days till my home visit. Adding insult to injury, she reminds me of the coming festival days of Deepavali and to refrain from even thinking about any such non-vegetarian delicacies on those holy days!

My Grandma who heard a ‘familiar voice’ peeks in and calls my Grandpa to come say “Hello” to their loving grandson. “You have become fair and well built”, she claims. After Typhoid having reduced me to skin and bones just before my travel here, no wonder I appear Machoman in comparison. She informs me of all my cousins and relatives whose marriages have been ‘fixed’ recently and seems to be in a hurry to fix me up as well! She however puts it more subtly as “I pray to the Lord that I get to witness such happy occasions of my grandchildren”. I grab the few awkward seconds in between, to broach the face-saving wins of Team India against the English to my quietly watching Grandpa. We exchange some more about evening walks and fiction novels and the weather, before Grandma signs off with her trademark shower of blessings, ending with reminding me to “Keep giving us the good news”.

After confirming that “I really want to quit Skype”, I sit back and let the simple elation of the family time engulf me. Just before I grow too restless, I say to myself “I need to write about this” and get on with the weekend chores.