Even though getting a ‘breakfast date’ with your husband in the middle of the night everyday should trump everything else, it’s never been able to one up the whole sehri routine at the parents place for me. Sehri at ammi and abbu’s place is one of the best memories I have with my family and it’s incredible how I never knew that while I was living it.
My siblings and I were one of those useless offsprings who expected to be woken up and luxuriously served our food; parents were simply slaves meant to cater to our sehri needs. This understanding was pretty clear in our household and waking up to help the parents out with heating the food or setting the table were laughable concepts really. I mean….Parents, please.
Our dad would try to wake us up at regular intervals before the azaan; it was a well-paced exercise at every 5 minutes and if he ever LIED about it being 15 mins to the azaan when it was actually SIXTEEN, we’d liberally hurl furious accusations his way. ‘Itni jaldi utha dia hai, ab hum kya karain’/’Jab bataya hai keh jaldi nahi uthayen toh kyon uthaya’. AND HE WOULD ALWAYS APOLOGISE (brat alert).
This gentle treatment however was reserved for the girl child only – I totally feel for my younger brother about how he used to be dragged out of bed with a generous dose of insults entirely unrelated to the circumstances (‘future tabah hai tumhara agar subha naee uth saktay’ or ‘utha utha kar pagal kar dia hai, zaleel kar dogay baray ho kar’ – LOLZ. Hashtag, parents on crack. Full throttle character assassination, bros.
Our dad always used to be in the best of moods that early in the morning. He’d be cracking jokes at the table all the way through and we would be sitting with faces that looked like someone had just done the entire ghar ka pocha with them. There were times when we would oblige him and join in and make way too much noise and inevitably our mom would scream ‘Khayal karo, parosi kya sochainge’. That same line, for TWENTY years, guys. Lulz.
Other times, we’d be sprawled out on the living room floor like patients on anesthesia, waiting for the azaan because we were brutally woken up a few minutes earlier than the regular schedule (see reference one paragraph above, thanks). Patients on anesthesia but also capable enough to profusely indulge in trash talk and throw shade at the people who gave us life. So good.
Time with the parents is in any case one of the best times of your life but there are some amplified moments like these that make all of us go back in a second and reminisce like nobody’s business. (I know my sister will read this and message me immediately). It’s been years since I’ve had sehri with my mom (dad took a one-way ticket to heaven some time ago) and I don’t think it can ever be the same thing, because now I’m supposedly responsible and shit so if I were at my mom’s place now, I’d wake up with her to help out with the food? (tragedies of adulthood) And who knows when all of us would be together in Ramzan again. I miss that. But I’m grateful that I have a sound and healthy mind to be able to go back and actually ‘look’ at these memories (the visuals are so strong) and relive them in some way. Thanks Ammi, Abbu (dad, I hope you got internet up there) for one more absolutely priceless gift in life.
What was/is your sehri action like?