My mom's lap

​

My eye lids became heavy with sleep
And I curled up on the couch
Placed my head on my mom's lap
And shut my eyes once again.

I was revisiting this place-My mom's lap, after a very long time
And it seemed familiar like home
Like she would in my childhood
She ran her fingers through my hair

Then:
She had softly chided me
For not taking care
Of my hair
And had gently untangled
My not-so-long tresses
And when I woke up would find them neatly braided

Today:
She noticed the grey in my hair
And offered her tips
On how to avoid premature greying
'Apply oil at least twice a week' she said
Even offered to make her special
Hair oil with tulsi and hibiscus buds
I reminded her my age ..
(Amma, I am forty eight)
that it was not premature
But a bit delayed greys that were
Showing up now in haste.

Then:
She had narrated many a story
Of 'undan' and 'undi',
Of Prahlad and Narasimha,
Tales from Ramayana,
And the Mahabharata

and forced me to lie down
beside her
And have my noon siesta
I hated it then ..
No, not the stories
but having to sleep
When I would rather read
Or enact those very tales 

I had heard or
Talk to myself or
Play teacher to an imaginary student.

Today :
She narrated...oh I didn't hear what
I had already drifted into my dream world
Had been transported from her lap
To that fairy-tale world
Reliving each moment of childhood.
It was a vacation !!
..the afternoon siesta
Ah ! a redo,  a deja-vu
Yet now I realize ,
My mom's lap was
a ticket to paradise !