Diya In Tulsi

Before the sun could lit the sky, mom would wake up to lit our home. Olden days and thanks to our small town, which gave us big houses, fresh air, and unadulterated food.

From my room window, in half sleepy eyes, I would love watching maa, waking up early, cleaning the angan, taking bath and in semi-wet hair and a bindi on the forehead. Maa would lite diya in tulsi pot in angan.

Without the sunshine, our home would shine in the golden glow of diya. Then she would take a pooja vessel to offer water and prayers to the rising sun. She would haste her steps to climb up and not miss the perfect moment when the silence of darkness is broken by the light of sun and chirping of birds. She used to say, one should start the day by looking at the rising sun. Its rays give you energy and positivity.

After that, she would slowly come down and while bowing to the kitchen, she would go in to

Sake amazing aromatic tea.

With tea ready in hand, she would wake up baba. Slowly approaching my room, before her the smell of her soap and oil would give me signals that she is here.

With a few drops of water still pouring from her hair, she would kiss me and wake me up.

And for me, my maa and her tea would give me energy and positivity. Everyday same things happen, but I wanted this morning chores never to fade away.

While baba and I slowly get to our working mode, maa would make the parathas, sabji ready. Before the milkman would approach, she would stand at the gate.

While we would leave for the day, maa would clean up the messy beds, clothes, house, utensils. And as we would return, she would eagerly wait to give every single hot chapati to us.

Even the evenings would be followed by her tulsi diya, closing the doors and making the kitchen shinny for the next day.

Baba never helped maa in any household work. And maa never asked me for any assistance due to my studies. So alone she would handle all so perfectly. even before ending her day, she looked glowing and energised. Maybe her rising sun concept works for real. Today I came to visit maa baba. I am working in administrative services in Delhi, so rarely comes home.

Maa has got older and baba has completely got himself stick to tv. 

While maa still insist on doing maximum work by herself. Due to knee pain, she goes to terrace Occasionally, rather offers prayers from angan itself.

Things have changed with her aging.

Now milkman comes inside and gives the milk.

I have arranged a maid for them, but still maa insist on making hot chappati for baba.

In all this aging process one thing is still the same, the glowing of angan with a diya in tulsi pot.

Maa and Baba wanted to stay here only despite me insisting them to move with me to Delhi.

Maybe they have got a deeper bonding to this place than me. And yes it could be because every time I visit this home, I dont feel like going back again. Now me who would rush to reach the terrace and admire the rising sun, the little birds, cool breeze and myself.