Mumma & twin sons’ mother are two different things, mind you!

With all my excitement and happiness I was all set (overconfident people like me often find their necessities missing midway) for motherhood in the 29th year of my life….The journey with my daughter was like, “WOW! I am such a perfect and successful mother!!” (Double exclamation to express the amount of complacency).
1,2,3,4 and 5 years of excellent performance flew away and I, based on my experience started for another journey (after all you can always count on your experience: I beg your pardon I don’t believe in this jargon any more.)
This time with twin sons the journey was…well to be precise…beyond every definition, punctuation or syntax. Trust me, till now I had become a declared counsellor mother amongst friends and relatives. I had started suggesting Dr Spocks and giving various “Maa ki seekh” to the would-be-mothers and newly moms.
And phataak crashed all the wisdom when I first heard them both crying together! VULNERABLE…was the only adjective which I hated to use for women and here I was with now other suitable description. “The twins are identical,” claimed the Science (though for me this whole ZYGOTE STORY is a conspiracy known only to sperms and ova). They were hungry together and their urge for nature calls arose simultaneously. I had 2 eyes, a pair of ears to see and hear them at the same time but unlike the goddesses my two hands did not have the strength to hold them simultaneously (faith in MAA KI SHAKTI also crashed…).
“How do you manage them?” the obvious question of curious people around me irritated me like a mosquito, “how? oh, do I have a choice or would you like to manage them for me darling if I give you the details,” was the frustrated response. I was until now a ‘safai pasand’ and smart educated working mumma. As a unique trait of women, I cribbed about my unhygienic devranis and jethanis and loved sharing their saga here and there.
Cleanliness comes to you only when you also have lots of time to gossip – this fact came to me now! My house was scattered like my smart persona. I was struck (read awestruck: please I mean it…) by the accelerated achievements of my sons. At the age of 5 months they were crawling!! “Well twins do all activities much before single babies,” announced the happy doctor. She was correct, I could helplessly see the organised shelves coming down, with much less effort which had been put to arrange them. For the first time I learnt that besides gravity there are certain other obvious forces working in the environment too. I also learnt that ‘space management doesn’t always work according to objects’ instead it’s inversely proportional to the growing height of your children.The taller your child grows, your objects gain height (though sometimes to the extent that you have to buy a room ladder to reach to your cosmetics or to look into the mirror). My daughter with her school bag made her safe perch on a tall box (thank God it was there otherwise she would also have to sit on one of the high shelves, imagine!). Still if her colourful Natraj pencil came rolling to the edge of the box, it was either chewed or even disappeared.
Diaper, I tell you are the best innovations for all the mothers even better than gas or cooker or anything. You can stay on fruit, milk, or even starve yourself if not willing to cook but few things cannot be avoided as per your wish. I am sure, the amount we alone invested on diaper would be company’s 40% profit (hello company people are you listening) in those years.
By the way, they have turned five now….People say instead of an impulsive and aggressive individual I am a caring, calmer and patient woman (thank you my sons, you have taught me biggest lessons of mankind). After our long tiring day when we reach home and I am unable to climb the stairs of the 3 storey apartment (dear youngsters, our forefathers who got this apartment constructed 40 years back, surely didn’t believe in innovation of escalators and hence had evergreen lubricated knees),one of my twins never forgets to support me with his little hand and the other one soothes my body ache with his innocent never ending stories. Voila! The price I paid for these treasures was undoubtedly meagre. Smug!