What Goes Around Comes Around

‘I’m not watching Bigg Boss anymore.’ It was Amma. We’d synced our muhurats for the Sunday call.

‘Why?’ Really, I don’t know why I bothered. Amma and I were caught in a never-ending loop on this one. We both got super hyper at the beginning of October when the new season of Bigg Boss began. That’s what Big Brother is called in India, by the way. They had to differentiate between all the Big Brothers we already have looking over our shoulder.

The fact remains that Bigg Boss is a mega-event on my social calendar. Pathetic, I agree. But that’s three months ticked off. It means a lot.

Not so much for Amma. Who loved the première and all the dancing and singing. But then her enthusiasm for BB would begin to wane in inverse proportion to its waxing for the newest tear-jerker the air waves beamed her way.

‘They fight all the time. Too much chik chik.’ My mouth fell open. I mean, isn’t that the USP of BB? A bundle of wannabes in a pressure cooker situation. Fighting 24/7 on prime-time television. It’s like watching a David Attenborough film. With the wrong kind of animals.

Just as I opened my mouth to say as much, I got a sharp jab in the ribs from the husband. ‘Desist!’ said the frown on his face.

I changed tack. ‘So what are you watching these days?’ I know, I know. But in these days of Covid-19, there are very few ‘safe’ topics for chats with parents.

‘There’s a remake of Kasautii Zindagii Kay. All new actors. Very nice.’

A second jab from the husband was not needed. I was dumbfounded. Lost for words. Those who know me will report this is a blue moon kind of occurrence.

Amma continued to tell me about her new love, blithely unaware of the fist she’d swung into my gut. Round 1 of this particular TV series had run to 1400-plus episodes. Five days a week, six-and-a-half years. And now barely twelve years later, they were airing a remake?

I swung into adult daughter mode. ‘How can you watch that crap? The first time was bad enough. A remake? Seriously? Why don’t you read a book instead? At least it won’t fry your brains.’

From the corner of my eye, I could see the husband doing his pigeon act. Code for ‘slow down, she’s your mum!’ But I was in full spate.

The phone call got disconnected soon after. Maudlin OTT television serials are Amma’s secret fix. And this is a conversation that’s been on repeat loop for several years. When I’m in Noida, she will often wait up for the late night repeat of her favourite shows. When she knows I’m safely upstairs, snoring. It’s a different matter that she herself snores through most of it and then has to catch the afternoon repeat the next day. Along with my disapproving asides.

For now, I sniffed her aside and continued to wallow in the trials and tribulations of this year’s BB contestants. Till the son called one evening. And found me in tears. ‘I’ve lost my BB video link,’ I wailed and snotted over his metaphorical shoulder.

The adult-son disgust in his voice came through too clearly to ebb the tear fest. ‘You’re still watching that crap?  Seriously, Ma! You should be ashamed of yourself! An intelligent person like you! Why don’t you read a book instead?’

You could say generational justice. What goes around comes around. I don’t care. All water off a duck’s back. I am Amma’s daughter. And I’m a Celebrity started Sunday.