MUSINGS:MILS & BOON

When I joined my husband for this eight month long military course in the tiny army garrison of Mhow, I had no idea what a pleasant and thrilling discovery it would be. Malwa’s awesome beauty and its pleasant weather turned me from a couch potato to a kosher nature lover. The incessant monsoon rains only partially dampened my spirits. I still managed to travel over a 100 kms every weekend, in any possible direction, that had a track (kuccha or pucca) to carry me through – simply revelling in the natural extravaganza of my surroundings and picking up pumpkins( raw or ripe) on my way. Soon I was dying to reach out to tell everyone how scenic, picturesque, quaint, pleasing and pictorial this place was. I wrote feverishly and sent out my stories through the ultimate arterial net work of the email to scores of people.2000 kms away my mother-in-law (MIL) was the only person who responded to my heartfelt eulogies on Mhow, with some enthusiasm. She infact read the small print MHOW as “Ma Aao” and immediately packed her bags and send us a wire “I am coming, book my tickets.”

In absence of any other exciting news, this somehow spread like wild fire in the HC blocks. “Your MIL is on her way, is it? Friends responded with mixed reactions. They were comforting and sympathetic. They had seen her pictures - not the MILdew variety they concluded and naturally worried for me. She seemed to carry the flavour of the MILitant in law instead. Tall and tubby with an equally imposing voice she was the spirit that had guided the youngest of her sons on the perilous track of a commando I told them. She was also a die hard patriot who down from her globe trotting days assiduously ignores anything “made in China”. Of late with the barrage of CBM’s established with our friendly neighbours she was in a bit of a quandary and felt the need to have a word with “Manmohan”. She was penning this letter to PMO (with oblique references to Chanakya’s Arthashastra and the fallouts of the WTO) when the Newzeland Vs India happened and she was stumped. Cricket is her primary passion and took precedence to every other project. “Marriage mars manhood”- was her latest take. “We mustn’t let Kaif and Yuvrajget get married or we would never see another man of the match again,” she concluded - taking up the pen to to write to the BCCI instead. Being “criketally” challenged I knew exactly what I was in for and was glad the library was there to give her the steady supply of cerebral shots she was addicted too. It was a severe obsession that had terrible withdrawal effects. From school books to cook books to dissertation all could be missing at once , to keep up her gluttonous appetite. No wonder then every one who mattered sent in their condolences and waited for the D (Dooms) Day to arrive.

To our horror it came sooner than we thought with a missive from the course senior’s wife, Mrs Mehta - asking us to congregate for the Ladies Club Meet. Apparently it was our turn to do the bandobast, with a mandatory entertainment programme. What US too? We were “senior ladies” already and imagined to be out of the tambola trap and ladies club loop forever. Alas! Army was such a leveller. We were once again a huddled flock called upon to perform our so called “voluntary” antics upon the stage. Even Dus Bahane would not be enough to wriggle out of this one, something told us. Why the ladies club felt more like a pay up time rather than fun, I always wondered. “Don’t forget the perks you enjoy” “Don’t forget the contribution you owe to this organisation”- Refrains that even I have had to routinely dole out with a view to groom (read grill) younger ladies. But accosting them at this juncture? “No excuses” ever worked and so we were not even trying. But then I remembered my MIL was on her way. “She needs constant care” I pleaded and to my utter surprise came the most unexpected relief “Okay you may take it easy”. I would not have believed my ears but then jealous, resentful and envious glances confirmed my worst qualms – I have to live with a snigger here and there from now on I resigned. “Wish we had a MIL”, I think I heard a garble as I took the exit.

I had barely settled down to these hard facts of life including playing the DIL in a saree, when yet another curfew struck. A threat to blacklist our maid (incase she took one too many a leave) took a volte face, stranding a few of us without any domestic help for several days. Frantic phone calls looking for replacements buzzed all around. More than anyone I was ready to dish out some extra money if required to get the familial grind going, when, “I have a suggestion” thundered my MIL (in her usual decibel). “Why don’t I help you save a few bucks?” “Wow! MILs are sure handy!” My problems were suddenly alleviated at no extra cost and I was beginning to see the miracle in disguise. For one, my maid realised her mistake and decided to come back immediately. With two sturdy extra hands at home I even volunteered to the cause of tambola and softened crackled feathers. My air of self importance providing dadi ma ke nuske to all and sundry got a further flattering when I had to lend it out to the expat Bong community, immersed in Pooja preparations.

But it wasn’t the last of the revelations. Many a time I have had to avoid a late night on the bon-a-fide grounds of being with my aged in law. I could see now how I might use the ruse to stay back and enjoy my favourite TV show. Better still I could dance all night at DSOI or enjoy a shopping spree at Indore without my children at my heels. My MIL was my ticket to freedom and more.” Your Mil is a boon yaar! May I borrow her for a day?” .The importance of the ace up my sleeve had finally dawned on me. I was beginning to smile at my own fortune. I was beginning to feel like God. The latest tradeoffs seemed even more lucrative than ever. I knew, I finally had the panacea to every problem in sight.

“Beg borrow steal -We need a MIL” could well be the slogan of the century for all hapless army wives who need to juggle around so much. Overheard a rather resourceful friend discussing her latest venture on “outsourcing Mothers in law” incase they got scarce. Now that’s mega. I hope eligible MIL’s are listening and applying.