Mother was her name and also her relationship to her. She had seen another name written some places, but she called her mother, and there were no other people to call her. That is if you ignore some of the cheeky parakeets. Mother was taller than her. Well yeah, that IS true. And she smelled nice. She was a large part and important part of the smell of the house. And of Safe. Her skin was mostly smooth. She was also allergic to bites of insects like Lajwanti and that resulted in many bumps. Smooth bumps. Bumps gave her otherwise light skin, shades of red and pink. Like butterflies.
Lajwanti's skin was a little bit fairer than her mother. She had never asked her mother about the reason for the difference and that is why she asked that day. Not because she did not know, but because she needed to ask and make sure what she knew was accurate - that it is because of her father. She has seen many a child births and eggs hatches to know how it all worked. In fact she also knew how to make it not work, if needed.
Mother taught her how to make things, how to not be scared, how to Be Your Own Person. Her mother was her person and she was her mother's person in the jungle. So she thought it was silly to try to be your own person, but like other things, she trusted her mother about this. Being your own person was fun: it meant a puzzle, a challenge, a task that she had to find, make, or think out of. It also meant that if you were not paying attention [chasing that butterfly because it tickled you in the ear] when mother was telling you about the plant or bird "that you may not get another chance to see", you got into trouble.
Mother "let her" sit on the wet logs while she sat on her stool when she told Lajwanti stories about things. That is how Lajwanti knew about the sunbeams, water cycle, creep, and babies. And people.
She had seen pictures of her father. He looked different in every picture. His hair were more curly sometimes, other times long and almost straight. Sometimes missing altogether! His facial hair, even the shape of his face kept changing in every picture. But his ears and eyes did not change. She did not have any views on ears, but she liked those eyes. Her own eyes were like her mother's but she wouldn't have minded if someone asked her which ones does she want. She would have chosen the darker ones, like her father.
Her father did not like people very much. And mother liked him a lot. That is why they lived here. Even after father was gone. She had seen many pets, many friends go. And it was sad every time she thought about them. That is why she never asked her mother about her father anymore. But whenever she thought about father she had this terrible urge to hold on to her mother. And cry. Those days food got delayed.
Mother wore the colours of the jungle. She wore her short black hair in a piece of cloth. Lajwanti knew mother did that to hide her hair, who from she had never figured out. She had very nice hair. She also had the most strong arms. Lajwanti liked her mother's arms. Not more than her earlobes or nape. But most of all she liked her mother's navel. Mother was connected to her mother through that once! She liked mother's face too. Her soft bumpy cheek. Her soft bumpy forehead. Her eyes.
Her eyes were blood shod because of high fever. It was one of the days when Lajwanti wanted to hold her mother and not let go of her ever, and cry. But it was one of the days, she knew, when she had to be Her Own Person.
This is the last post, so displayed first, but the story begins with the Prologue. Click on the word or choose from the list on the left side.
