Dear Santa, I want to be Adya

Choose between sky diving from Qutab Minar and getting ready for a party, and I will go for the former. Choose between walking in stilettos and walking on your knees and I go for the latter. Choose between wrestling a toothy alligator and wearing churis everyday matching with my dress, and I say, give me the wrestling bit, any day. 

That's Mommy for you.

Give her the make-up kit and she will make you up for any kind of party. Give her the heels and she will walk on the ramp without faltering even once. Give her the churis and she will match them with her dress. Not a shade here and there.

That's the daughter for you.

She cannot be branded as the boisterous type, but there is certain liveliness in her. She can blend into the background and yet stand apart. She is the perfectionist, I am not. She is the lady, I am not. She is organised, does her homework without being told and tries to retain a certain orderliness in everything she does. I'm usually pretty thick-skinned and incorrigible when it comes to getting organised. I am sensitive to criticism. She is adept at turning a deaf ear if you are saying things she doesn't want to hear. 

We have had a terrible fight this morning. 

She doesn't listen. I scream. 

She holds fort. I don't give up. 

It turns into a nasty, ugly session of screaming and shouting and non-stop tears. I almost push her out of the door, telling her to get lost. She turns back, looks at me teary-eyed and leaves. I feel a knot in my heart. Why does she bring out the worst in me? Who is responsible for this? And who is more stubborn?

It's time for her to get back from school. I am anxious. She can be so much like me sometimes - very unforgiving. She comes back, gregariously talking about the Christmas celebrations and the food that they ate and all the fun that they had. 

I take a deep breath. The worst is over between us. She has moved on. We can now kiss and tell. 

"The Santa cap that you had given me had a hole. Don't worry. My Ma'am fixed it. And you didn't even bother looking for my homework book. I had to sit in the class idle, when all my friends were showing their work to Ma'am. And the chips packet that you gave me, I didn't eat it at all. I gave it to my friends. I am not selfish and greedy, Mamma, remember that." 

(The whole issue in the morning was about the chips packets that she had to give to her class teacher. She was NOT to eat it. She was SUPPOSED to share it with the class. And she did just the opposite a day before, much to my dismay. I know I know. It is all so trivial and I was being mean. But she had to be reprimanded for that. Only, I was a little too harsh.)

Right. I know Adya. You are like me, I want to tell her. Or, may be I am like you. Or, may be, I should be like you.

I wouldn’t change my daughter’s personality for the world. I would want to change mine though. Santa, please grant me this one Christmas gift.