My mother-in-law is nice to those who are nice.
This may sound like a simple sentence. But if you are married you probably already know that simple sentences are usually the most dangerous ones because they look harmless from outside, but inside them there is both wisdom and warning.
I don’t know when I realized it, but I have almost always known that there are two ways to get to a woman’s heart – through her children and through her mother.
Please don’t tell me that the way to a woman’s heart is through her stomach….that is for men. Or in some cases, a little lower than the stomach.
We men are simple creatures. Give us good food, a little silence, and the remote control, and we will think life has reached its spiritual peak.
Women are more complicated. A woman may enjoy the dosas you make, but she is also simultaneously observing whether you cleaned the kitchen afterwards, whether you fed the children first, and whether you spoke nicely to her mother.
So I decided very early in life that if I wanted Rekha land’s green card, I had to take both routes. I had to treat her children and her mother well.
The first route was slightly easier because the children were also mine. The second route required strategy because a mother-in-law is not just a senior citizen staying in your house. She is the original manufacturer of the woman you love.
She has seen first-hand who you are living with. She knows your struggles, and understands them. So if you are nice to your mother-in-law, you may have an ally on your side.
—-X—-X—-
I have always liked my mother-in-law.
I am not saying this because Rekha may read this, though that is also one of the reasons, but because it is also true.
She has a good heart and a good sense of humour.
I think her motto is “Be nice to those who are nice.” Kind of like Rajinikanth who even did a movie which means the same “Nallavanukku Nallavan” in 1984.
If you make her crispy dosas the way she likes, she will look at you with a softness that even your own wife may not have shown after the first year of marriage.
But if you irritate her, fool her, or disturb her peace during a Malayalam movie, then God help you.
Or wait…I doubt if even he will help. He may instead just say, “You started this. You handle.”
Unfortunately, we Rajans are risk takers. We love to take the bull by the horns. Simply put, deep down we Rajans feel alive only when there is fire below our butt.
And that is why after one peg of Old Monk when Satan suggested I get naughty and play a prank on my mother-in-law, I didn’t delay any further.
—-X—-X—-
One evening, Rekha had gone to sleep early and by early I mean 8.30 pm.
My mother-in-law was sitting in the hall and watching a Malayalam movie.
I am 50% sure it was a Mohanlal movie, because in a Malayali house, if the TV is on and one senior citizen is watching with full concentration, it can either be Mohanlal or Mammootty.
I was sitting at the dining table with my laptop, and since it was a Wednesday, as is my weekly ritual, I was having a quiet peg of Old Monk.
I used the phrase “quiet peg” because I don’t want you to think I am an alcoholic. It is just weekly maintenance.
On that particular Wednesday, after the Old Monk had warmed my blood a bit and weakened the little common sense I have, Satan danced in my mind.
I looked at my mother-in-law watching the movie peacefully and thought, “Why not play a prank on her?”
Now, what you are going to read next will showcase the level of risk taking we Rajans indulge in in our everyday life.
A normal man, who is usually risk-averse, sees his mother-in-law watching a movie and leaves her alone.
A wise man, who may not be as risk-averse, may ask her, “Amma, do you want tea?”
A typical Rajan, or let’s say a foolish man, walks up to her and says, “I am done with your daughter.”
Now that I have your attention, let me explain in a little more detail what exactly happened.
As she was glued to the TV, I had to go and stand in between the TV and her chair to catch her attention.
She looked at me, slightly irritated because I had interrupted her daily dose of Mohanlal, but the risk-taking Rajan didn’t care. Or maybe it was the Old Monk…I am not sure.
“Amma, I am done with your daughter,” I said.
She looked at me confused, but didn’t say anything.
“I don’t think I can love her anymore. I have made enough compromises, and she just refuses to budge from her high pedestal.”
Now, the problem is, my mother-in-law believed me. I doubt she believed me because I am a good actor, but because she knows her daughter.
Every mother knows that her daughter has issues. Even though a mother will never allow others to complain about her kid, but deep down she knows the truth.
So when I said Rekha was refusing to budge from her high pedestal, my mother-in-law’s face had that look which said, “I know why you want to leave her, and I agree with your decision…but I will have to take my daughter’s side.”
She immediately became serious, and turned down the volume.
That itself was a big development because in a Malayali household, interrupting Mohanlal is not a small thing.
This would have been a great time to stop the prank. But you know us Rajans…the eternal risk takers.
She said, “You should talk and sort it out.”
I said, “No, Amma. Time to talk is over.”
Then, because one stupid sentence is never enough for me, I added more stupidity.
I said, “I am planning to convert to Islam, because then I can marry a second time, and this time I will marry a girl who listens to me.”
Even as I was saying it, I could see her expression changing. She was probably thinking, ‘I know my daughter is difficult to deal with, but what kind of fellow has my daughter married?”
My original plan was simple – keep up the charade for about five minutes and then get back to her and shout, “Amma…it was a prank! Look camera!”
Of course there would be no camera, but you get the idea. Then she would scold me, I would laugh, she would laugh, and the matter would end.
This was the plan. But unfortunately, the moment I sat down at my laptop and started watching Hollywood movie ‘The Intern,’ starring Robert De Niro, Anne Hathaway, I forgot the prank.
Rekha always says that I am very good at creating problems but very poor at solving them. Such instances prove that she is right.
Because that night, as I was one peg down and enjoying a movie, ten feet away from me a seventy-plus woman was sitting with the full belief that her daughter’s marriage was collapsing, her son-in-law was converting, and one more woman may soon enter the house.
I don’t remember it clearly but I doubt my mother-in-law watched the movie after that. She sat there for some time and then decided to go to her room.
I remember that on the way to her room she stopped near the dining table, where I was sitting. Maybe she expected me to say, “Amma, I was joking,” or maybe she wanted to advise me or maybe she wanted to plead for her daughter.
I wouldn’t know because I had forgotten about the prank, so just looked up from the laptop, smiled at her and said, “Good night, amma!”
She did not sleep the whole night.
Usually I wake up at 4 a.m. But that night, because one peg had become two, and because the universe wanted my punishment to have proper build-up, I woke up only at 6 a.m., which is one hour after Rekha gets up.
By then, my mother-in-law had told Rekha everything. She had told Rekha to mend her ways….because if she didn’t either divorce was coming or one more woman was coming.
My mother-in-law had also informed Rekha that I was converting to Islam.
Rekha laughed.
Any other woman may have panicked, but not Rekha because she knows me. She knows that I am capable of planning many things, but not capable of executing a mall visit without consulting her.
She came to the bedroom to wake me up.
“Rajan,” she said, “what did you tell Amma yesterday?”
Then I remembered the prank…the one I had so conveniently forgotten.
Long story short, I got scolded by both mother-in-law and Rekha for being heartless.
Since then, I have realised that pranks should have expiry time. If you don’t reveal that it was a prank within five minutes, it becomes cruelty.
But that day also taught me why I like my mother-in-law so much.
She stayed awake the whole night because she believed her daughter was in trouble. Even when she knew that her daughter was capable of handling her ‘useless’ husband. Or maybe she was just worried about me, “What this Rajan do once he is out of Rekha’s shadows?”
Since then I have learnt that a mother-in-law is not your enemy.
She is just a mother whose daughter you took home…and if you are lucky, after a few years, she will start worrying about you as well.