When I was little and when I wasn’t the mummified and bandaged Anandhotep, Mom would bring me crayons and drawing sheets and say, “Express yourself!”
Now when I draw, paint, and express myself, Mom rolls her eyes and says, “time na khoti kar, puttar!” (Don’t waste your time, Son!)
When I was a cute, cuddly, and healthy little roly-poly boy with a double chin and a tubby tummy, Mom would play the song, “I am a Disco Dancer”, ask me to dance, and say, “Express yourself!”
Now when I play the song “Papa kehte hain bada naam karega“ (Daddy says, my son will make me proud,) and sing along to express myself, Mom switches it off and snickers, “Kuch dhang ka kaam kar leyin?” (why don’t you do something useful instead?)
I think sometime during the last twenty years, my mom has been replaced by her doppelgänger!
Note: The word “healthy” is an Indian Euphemism for fat.
Written in response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Express Yourself!.”
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