In the first part of this mother-in-law series, I had written about how, after one quiet peg of Old Monk, Satan danced in my mind and I decided to play a prank on my mother-in-law by telling her that I was no longer in love my wife, and that I was planning to convert to Islam so that I could marry another woman who would listen to me.
The prank was supposed to last five minutes. Unfortunately, like most things I start with confidence, I forgot to finish it.
So while I went back to my laptop and started watching ‘The Intern’, my mother-in-law stayed awake the whole night thinking her daughter’s marriage was collapsing, her son-in-law was converting, and one more woman was about to enter the house.
It will help you understand two things – that unlike my wife, her mother is a good woman, and that when I have had a peg of Old Monk, I am Satan.
Anyway, that was not the only time I put her in trouble. I once put her in the dock while in Gurgaon.
Back then, every year Rekha would take both our kids and go on what I call her South India tour.
For one month during the summer vacation, she would visit relatives and friends in multiple cities, with the kids in tow. And during that one month, Rekha’s mother and I would be home alone in Gurgaon.
Now, even an arts student can tell you that usually there is no chemistry between a son-in-law and a mother-in-law. But for some reason, we would get along well. Maybe because we had a common enemy – Rekha.
If you think a daughter and her mother can’t be arch enemies you haven’t seen a daughter and a mother argue.
We both had our routines…for me work was worship, and for her worship was work.
Needless to say, my mother-in-law is dutifully religious. So much so that she thinks that it is because of her prayers that my son passes in maths, my company manages to breakeven, and Rekha looks good in sarees.
Despite our busy schedules one weekend both of us were getting bored.
So I asked her, “Would you like to join me at a drinking place?”
She looked at me and said, “As long as you get me back alive.”
That was all the permission I needed from a sixty-seven-year-old woman.
Today she is seventy-four, but back then she was sixty-seven and clearly still open to painting the town red.
So we got ready and went to Open Tap, a brewery on Sohna Road in Gurgaon.
I ordered myself a glass of wheat beer, some potato wedges, and chicken popcorn.
Then I asked her, “Do you want to try the beer?”
She looked at me with pride and said, “Nobody in Cherukunnu could drink like my husband. Do you think I will shy away?”
Cherukunnu is a small town about half hour from Kannur in Kerala and that’s where Rekha’s family is from.
If my mother-in-law’s boast doesn’t impress you, you must know that in Kerala, out of ten people, eleven of them drink alcohol.
That’s right, my mother-in-law has a good sense of humour when she is in a good mood. But when she is not in a good mood, Rekha looks like a movie trailer.
I placed the massive glass of wheat beer in front of her. She immediately lifted it, took a sip, let out a huge after-drink sigh and then licked her lips.
We Rajans could very well have been the guys who invented documentation. Because we love to document everything that’s happening in our lives…and this article is an ideal example. So, I did what any smart Rajan would do when an event as big as ‘a mother-in-law and son-in-law sharing a beer’ was happening – I snapped a photo.
She warned me, “Don’t send this to anyone. This world is not ready for a sixty-seven-year-old woman drinking beer in a pub.”
But you know us Rajans…we dabble in risk. What rusk is to milk, risk is to us.
So I sent the photo of my mother-in-law sipping on a massive glass of beer to the WhatsApp family group.
Now, this was not my Madurai-side of family WhatsApp group where she has a guest role. I sent it to Rekha’s family WhatsApp group where she is the protagonist.
And as luck would have it, that day her brothers – and she has many – were leaving for Sabarimala temple.
For those who don’t know, Sabarimala is an Ayyappa temple, and before going there, devotees observe a strict 41-day fasting (vratham in Tamil).
They don’t have alcohol, they skip non-vegetarian good, they maintain celibacy, indulgence is strictly prohibited, and to top all of that there are the cold-water baths every day in the morning, prayers all through the day and austerity as well.
And at exactly that pious moment, their sister’s photo appeared in the family group, sitting in Open Tap, sipping the beer.
That was the first time I truly understood what people mean by “putting someone on the spot.”
If silence in a WhatsApp group could hurt, I would have been hospitalised that day.
Not one person liked or commented on my mother-in-law’s photo. It is also possible that they were all in the puja that’s done before her brothers boarded the van to head towards Sabarimala. We won’t know.
Yet again, I got scolded by both Rekha and her mother. But we Rajans are resilient….we are cockroaches. We may not float a party, but if we are ever shipwrecked, we would float in the tumultuous sea till help comes.
I am sure during the next few days Rekha’s mother would have wondered if marriage had a return policy like Amazon….so she could send me back and get a new bridegroom for her daughter.
But who cares about what the mother thinks when you have her daughter in your pocket.
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Before we get to my mother-in-law’s next story, let’s spend some time on my father in law …Mr KP Chandrasekharan Nair.
He was honest, hardworking and loved his smokes and drinks – just the kind of father-in-law I prayed for whenever I visited temples. Why you laughing? If women can pray for a good husband, what’s wrong in a man seeking a good father-in-law?
In the initial days of my marriage when we would be visiting Rekha’s home in Cherukunnu, I have even stolen his smokes.
That’s how close we were. Or maybe we were close because he never found out how his cigarettes were vanishing.
But in 2010 he was diagnosed with oesophagus cancer.
Back in those days, he was a regular at Artemis Hospital in Gurgaon – for his chemotherapy etc. Very often he would get overnight admission as well.
Since the hospital was in between our home and office, whenever he was admitted, I would visit him before going to work.
What I am going to tell you happened on one of the last times he was admitted…before he was brought to the same hospital in a condition he won’t be recovering from.
I don’t know why, but I remember that that day I was in formals and when I entered his room sometime after 8 am, he said, “Ah, nice shirt.”
He is not the kind to compliment you on trivial matters…because his standards were very high.
I said thank you and sat next to him. He was still in his bed and having his breakfast. He was struggling to swallow…and we both looked at each other, and knew that the situation wasn’t getting any better.
To break the awkward silence I asked, “So what did the doctor say when he came over last evening?”
My father-in-law was the most blunt man I have ever met. He said, “he said what I wanted to hear,” and then laughed. As much as a tired cancer-ridden body would allow.
I didn’t respond. Sometimes, the best reply is not saying anything.
And knowing how strong my father-in-law was, it seemed futile to give him false hopes. So I offered him the next best thing.
I don’t know why I said it…but at that moment I felt that instead of false hopes he would have wanted to know that his wife would be in good hands after he was no more.
I extended my hand and said, “But don’t worry…I will take care of your wife. Promise.”
It sounds very dramatic now. But back then it was just two men, making a deal. He extended his hand, and held mine. I choked, while tears rolled down his cheeks.
That was the second time I was seeing him in tears. First was while we were standing in front of the deity Annapoorneshwari, at the Annapoorneshwari temple in Cherruknnu, Kannur….and he held Rekha’s hand and gave it in mine.
The moment lasted just a few seconds, after which we pulled our hands apart. I sat there silently for a few minutes…and after that bade him farewell.
That evening I saw him at home…because Rekha had brought him home again. But we never spoke about the ‘gentleman’s agreement’ again. I am sure he didn’t tell his wife…and I didn’t tell mine.
After he passed away in 2011, I did mention about my gentleman’s agreement with her dad to Rekha.
She said, “You did the right thing. I am sure he would have been worried about her.”
My father-in-law would be slightly pissed if he ever read what I am going to write next about my mother-in-law. But since he is no more, we both don’t have to worry.
My mother-in-law is like Poo in Kung Fu Panda…loveable, but dangerous.
When they are 65 plus many people get busy with bhajans, temple visits, and hospital’s OPD ward…but not my mother-in-law. She is different.
For instance, around two years back she fell in love with Shah Rukh Khan.
Every evening, around 6 or 6:30, when Rekha, Rhea and I would go for a walk, she would ask us to play a Shah Rukh Khan movie for her before leaving.
We would search on Prime Video, Netflix, Hotstar, YouTube, wherever available, and play one.
This went on for more than three months, and she ended up seeing almost all of his movies.
She watched SRK smiling, crying, running, spreading his arms, loving women, loving mothers, and then in the climax hating the villains and kicking the shit out of them.
And slowly, she started falling for him – one movie at a time. Like any teenager she didn’t tell us…we found out accidentally.
Every day, around 6 a.m. she lights the lamp and then till 6:30 a.m., she reads the Gita.
One morning, I was working from the dining table, from where I can see inside her room.
Since I was not able to concentrate on work, I walked up to her and said, “Reading Gita…nice.”
She replied in her characteristic style, “Yes, but I am not able to focus.”
I was surprised. “Why?” I asked.
She said, “When I open the page, all I can see is Shah Rukh in a black suit running….”
I was stunned. “What?” I asked. I thought I had heard it wrong.
She looked at me as if I was the foolish one and said, “Arre, I saw that movie yesterday …Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham. That’s why. Nothing else.”
Nothing else?
A seventy-plus woman was reading the Gita, but Shah Rukh Khan in a black suit was blocking her spiritual concentration, and she said “nothing else” as if this is a normal.
That is my mother-in-law. How can one not like her?
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She has been alternating her time with us and Rekha’s elder sister ever since my father-in-law passed away due to cancer around 15 years back.
Now, it has been three months since she left Chennai and started staying in Kochi, Kerala with Rekha’s elder sister Rema and her husband Sudhir.
I miss her sometimes. I miss making dosas for her because she loved the dosas I made. But I also love the fact that I now have her room.
This is the problem with love….it is never pure. There are always riders attached. But then human beings are complicated, and among them sons-in-law are the worst.
I think every mother-in-law and son-in-law relationship has a strange beauty. It is not like mother and son, definitely not like father and son, but is it is like friendship, that develops because of a common friend.
It’s like one friend introducing you to a third friend, “Listen, we both are close…will be nice if you both can also hit it out. We three can then hang out together!”
And we did hit it out. After all, my mother-in-law loves Rekha as the child she raised, while I love Rekha as the woman I married. Effectively, we are on the same team.