Stroll…Stroller…Road-roller!

Stroll? Hmmm.
Stroll? I think I’m getting an idea.
Stroll?…wait, I’ve got to switch on my computer!

“Kya stroll te stroller da siyappa laga rakha hai?” (Why are you raising such a hue and cry about stroll and stroller?) Mom’s booming voice caught me unawares and I toppled out of my chair.

“Stroll Mummy Ji, Stroll,” murmured wifey in a tone that could’ve meant two things – one, she wanted Mom to disappear and go for a “stroll” in that “go, take a walk”, dismissive kind of meaning, or she could’ve been clarifying my statement to Mom in an effort to ensure that Mom didn’t cast one of her witchy spells to change the flavor of our conversation entirely, by bringing in the apparently innocuous stroller into it. With wifey you can never say. I stole a sideways glance to see which meaning Mom decided to hear. With Mom too, you can never say.

Fortunately for wifey, and unfortunately for me, Mom decided to focus on the second meaning.

“Stroller? Arey tum dono se kuch ho to stroller ka munh dekhen hum!” (Stroller? If only the two of you were capable of doing something, I’d turn fortunate enough to see the face of a stroller.)

“Mom,” I interjected, “let us not go there again please.”

“Go where, puttar (son)?” Mom shot me a glance that was quicker and sharper than a Rampuri knife and continued, “if only I had a stroller with your son in it to give me company, I’d go somewhere. I could show my face in the neighborhood. I could boast about my grandson…at least.”

The “at least” was a well-thought-of-afterthought – a barb that was almost invisible – hidden in the tail of the scorpion-statement she flung at me.

“Mom,” I repeated – trying to sound calm as my temper began to rise, “I said: let us not go there. Whether or not we get a stroller would depend on a lot of things – not just your need to boast.”

To main deenge maarti hoon? (So you are saying that I boast?) Is this why I brought you in this world? Is this why I carried you in my womb for nine months and seven days? Did I do all that so that today you tell me that I boast?”

“Mummy ji,” wifey intervened. I shuddered inwardly. She had the knack to make worsen the worst. “Mummy ji,” she said, “he didn’t mean to say that, he only meant that we aren’t ready for a child yet.”

I covered my face with my hands and waited for the inevitable!

Ma-bete ke beech taang mat ada,” (Literal translation: Don’t stick your foot between mother and son,) Mom blasted her, “go into the kitchen and make a cup of tea for me. For all I know, something’s wrong with you!” She then turned to me and continued, “This is what happens when you pick a girl from a different community – no strollers, not even one! Everyone gets one…everyone! Even the newly married modern couples – they go on their honeymoon, and the first thing they buy after they come back, is a stroller. All I ever wanted from you was a blue stroller…but you never think of your mother’s feelings, do you?”

“Mom, should I go to the market and buy you a blue stroller? Will that make you happy?” I asked her.

She stopped her litany, then riveted me to my seat using her characteristic unblinking stare. “You don’t mean it, do you?” she asked.

“Of course, I do. If a stroller makes you happy, I’ll buy one for you. I might even get an off-season discount if I bought it right away.”

She looked at me. She knew something was fishy. I never gave in that easily.

And then she understood.

She didn’t go for a stroll; I didn’t buy a stroller. I just faithfully reproduced the whole incident for my readers. 

This post is written in response to the daily post prompt Stroll.

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About Anand

Parodist, Humorist, Caricaturist, Nerd.
This entry was posted in humor, Parody, Personal, Satire and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

31 Responses to Stroll…Stroller…Road-roller!

  1. Judy Martin says:

    HaHA! Oh, I do feel sorry for you and your wife! No doubt you will get this conversation off and on, until you do your duty and give your mum the grandson she craves!!! ( What happens if you have a girl first, will she still be able to boast)? 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

  2. timelesswheel says:

    Hahahahaha!! All due to one innocent tiny word! A bomb more like! Hilarious post! I suspect you must keep getting those knifey looks 😷 Thanks for sharing 😊

    Liked by 1 person

    • Anand says:

      I thought of beached when I read beach; Mom thought of stroller, when she heard stroll. I shudder to think that I might’ve taken after her!

      Liked by 1 person

      • timelesswheel says:

        Hahaha you’re not alone. I constantly shudder when my quirks and habits resembles either of my parents! :’)

        Liked by 1 person

      • Anand says:

        Right. I’d recommend filling your mind with inconsequential details – after all it’s painful to imagine beating the sh*t out of your child who gets fabulous grades in school…I wouldn’t want to be that guy.

        Liked by 1 person

      • timelesswheel says:

        😨 this just went to a whole other level 😂 Thanks for the tip 😅

        Liked by 1 person

      • Anand says:

        Mitti pao (let’s bury it.) Let us stick to my utopian stories of Mom’s idiosyncrasies – after all, you live more in your head than outside it 😀

        Liked by 1 person

  3. Ashok says:

    Nice one, Anand! I can so very relate to what you go through in all these conversations with your mom! I think all moms are one and same.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Anand says:

      Ashok, how little you know of my Mom, but perhaps it’s best this way. Welcome here. I disagree with the all moms are one and the same statement. Moms form a grossly tilted continuum…and while most moms are at one end, a select few are at the other – my Mom is as rare as a real meteorite from the planet Krypton.

      Liked by 1 person

      • Ashok says:

        You really should meet my mom then 🙂 No matter how well you present your case, you cannot beat her, cannot be logical with her. What she says is truth and final – and you got to be there when she’d pressurize us for having a baby. Even if you’re talking about as mundane thing as vegetable, she’d bring up the ‘baby’ in between, and then go on ranting about not being able to see the face of her naati 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

      • Anand says:

        I’m not sure if I’d like to meet another mom-like mom, but demanding a stroller and a strollee of me…is just the tip of the iceberg. I think I should go visit your blog, who knows we might be brothers-in-spirit.

        Liked by 1 person

      • Ashok says:

        To me, it does feel like that we’re indeed brothers-in-spirit! Do keep posting about your mom – and the ways she keeps bringing ‘strollers’ in every situation, everyday, in every possible way 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

      • Anand says:

        Phew! Just made a post. Might take me a while to get to your blog yet…Anandhotep’s got me by my tail and flung me into the QSM grinding mill! Mom keeps popping up in my posts so you won’t miss her, I assure you.

        Liked by 1 person

  4. Oh well, this is going to go on until you and wifey give her a stroller with a baby in it! Good luck to you and an extra dose of good luck to wifey! 😀

    Liked by 2 people

  5. oneta hayes says:

    Do I feel bad about your “incidents” with mum and wifey? No, they make such good reporting. S
    You do write such good humor, at least! (Aside: Anand If you haven’t read my “Letter from Mom,” go see, I think you will like it. Is that called a shameless plug, or what?)

    Liked by 2 people

    • Anand says:

      Oneta, such plugs are welcome…especially if they can be plugged into the QSM magazine, especially in the upcoming issue. I’ll be over at your site when my next blank slot shows up. Thank you for that “compliment” though…it isn’t easy to extract one from you 😀

      Like

  6. Oh, this makes me cringe for you and wifey! You poor things. Will anything distract mom from your stroller-less state? 😃

    Liked by 1 person

  7. so clever . but I liked your generous hospitality. tell your mom, she brought you up right.
    barb

    Liked by 1 person

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