The new Triangle

What mom says about........(you will know later, read on)

    I guess all parents start wondering about their sons getting ensnared by wily women from the day they catch them eyeing neighborhood moppets with that ‘Whoa, not bad at all!’ look in their eyes. Our brat wasn’t above reproach either: shyly, he’d admitted to ‘liking’ little Ms G, when he was all of eight. “Ha, ha! Puppy love!” we’d smiled indulgently and forgotten all about it. 

    After school, our son flew the nest a few years ago, first for studies and then for work. Thanks to magical instant connectivity, distances lost meaning. The child would be his usual chirpy self, calling us up every few hours…well, giving missed-calls every few hours. That meant putting on hold everything we were doing and rushing to call back. The chats would last till we remembered last month’s bill. Or till the smell of burning food made me disconnect in a hurry. But all of it vouched for the fact that no girl had entered his life yet. Who would have time for parents if a new girl was around? 

    Things started changing when he was at business school. I’d call, all set for a heart-to-heart, only to hear his half-hearted “Oh really?”, “You don’t say!” or even “Ummm, what did you say?” At first I put it down to overwork. They do make you slog at those business schools, don’t they? On occasion, I’d put down the phone with a sigh and instructions not to forget his daily almonds. He’d say “Bye, then!” with uncalled-for alacrity. That was when I started wondering though I’d tell myself I was being unnecessarily suspicious. The poor child was just drowning in presentations and what have-you. He’d be fine once he joined work. 

    We decided to bide time till he was employed. When things didn’t change even then, my antennae started quivering. Cursory interest in all that enthralled him earlier – family gossip, neighbourhood updates, heck, even breaking news about our pet Chotu (who Sonny loves like a brother) finally bringing in the papers instead of chewing them – elicited distracted monosyllables. The boy sounded majorly preoccupied. Ergo, it had to be a girl! Nothing else quietens a voluble son as does a demanding girl. Being the broad-minded parents we hope we are, we accepted the changed equation with equanimity. However, his vehement “No, there is no girl” insistence made us a bit uneasy. We consoled ourselves: we’d get all our answers when he came home. 

    I solved the mystery earlier than that. When I happened to check my comatose Facebook wall. Of the last 50 updates, 47 were Sonny’s in a single day! All-2000-something ‘friends’ had commented on his comments and he in turn had commented on or ‘liked’ theirs! He assures me it doesn’t take any time at all. I have my doubts, but now I know what lay behind his ‘ummmm’ during calls. 

    Then he comes home. Some together-time at last, we think. “Wakey! Wakey!” I chirp brightly, steaming cups of tea in my hands, as the child looks at me blearily and mumbles “Is it eight already?” I praise the Lord: he’s finally learning the importance of time. He lurches out of bed, heads straight for the laptop. Flipping it open, he hits the keys frenziedly, exclaiming: “Heavens! I haven’t changed my status message yet! Oh my God! What shall I write today?” 

    “You could mention how good the ginger tea at home is, when you’ve tasted it, that is,” I say acidly. He says: “Ummm…oh, Anoop has got Goa! I must congratulate him!” “Ok,” I reply, giving up hopes of sustained conversation with the dear boy. “I’ll write on your ‘wall’ when lunch is ready!” 

    What do they say about joining them when you can’t beat them? A mother can fight for attention against one girl…but Facebook? Heavens forbid!