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10.05 p.m.
It is ridiculous to even suggest that. Of course I don’t.
10.15 p.m.
I don’t. I am not one of those women.
10.30 p.m.
I don’t. I don’t. I don’t. I don’t. I don’t. I don’t. I don’t. I don’t. I don’t. I don’t. I don’t. I don’t. I don’t. I don’t. I don’t. I don’t. I don’t. I don’t. I don’t. I don’t. I don’t. I don’t. I don’t. I don’t. I don’t. I don’t. I don’t. I don’t. I don’t. I don’t. I don’t. I don’t.
In case you don’t get it, I don’t.
11.10 p.m.
Okay. I do.
I still miss Rajeev. Sometimes so badly that it hurts.
11
13 February 2013, 11.00 a.m.
‘Kasturi.’
‘Mum.’
‘I have a blog now.’
I sputtered out the coffee I had just taken a mouthful of. ‘You have a what?’
‘A blog.’
‘A what?’
‘A blog. You get this web address and it’s almost like having an online diary. It’s quite cool. I can…’
‘I know what a blog is, Mum!’ I said, interrupting her.
Web address. Online diary. Quite cool. Was that really my mum I was speaking with? What had happened to her?
‘Then, darling, let me send you the link to mine. It is time you have it,’ she said nonchalantly before cancelling the call, leaving me pretty much gasping for air.
When will Mum cease to surprise me?
11.05 a.m.
To put it rather simply, I stared. Stared without blinking at the computer screen in front of me. Stared with my mouth gaping open.
Not only does my mother have a blog, she has had one for about three months. She has only recently decided to come out in the open with it. Anyone visiting Mum’s blog would have no doubt about what he will get from the page; the blog is, after all, titled rather unabashedly, ‘Pearls of Wisdom’.
I checked the number of followers and did a double take. Eighty-four!
In a matter of three months? Is Mum headed for cyber glory?
2.00 p.m.
I feature extensively on the blog. To protect my identity, I am not called Kasturi on the blog. For reasons past understanding, I am mostly referred to as Pimple. Dad is called PkP – Pimple ke Papa, as she explains in brackets. To make matters worse, I come across as a spoilt, irresponsible teenager. Is that how Mum perceives me?
