And here’s to you, Mrs. Sampat

The day started off like any other: the sun shone bright; the sparrows milled around the bird feeder feasting on last year’s animal crackers from Costco that the kids had refused after the first bite; Kuki was pulling clothes from her closet; the table was littered with jigsaw puzzle pieces; and Anu had a few friends over on a play date.

Before the boys started pestering her for television and sugar-laden snacks, mom sniffed her armpits and decided a shower was in order.

While peeling off her clothes, she noticed that she had allowed her legs and arms to grow so hairy she could actually run a comb through the strands. Wondering if she might perhaps turn into an abominable snowwoman if she allowed nature to take its course, mom smeared depilatory cream on her limbs, and dabbed some on her upper lip as well, for good measure.

She ran the shower and turned toward the mirror, critically pinching the layers of fat on her hips. Humming the theme song from Naach, mom idly wondered if Antara Mali had had her chest surgically enhanced. How else could one explain her taut, smooth mammaries that neither jiggled nor bounced, and seemed to have a personality of their own?

Straightening her shoulders, mom turned to her side and sharply sucked in her belly, noting with some satisfaction the inflation of her own chest as her stomach muscles contracted. Belting out a number from the film, she bent down in a graceful plié and stretched her arms out, à la Antara, toward an imaginary Abhishek Bachchan standing on a windy crag in the distance.

And it was in that position that Anu and his friends found mom, as they barged into the master bedroom without knocking. Four pairs of eyes (six, if you count his friends’ eyeglasses) stared at mom, as she stood buck naked in front of the mirror, wearing nothing but depilatory cream and a sexy pout.

“Er … ma, what are you doing?” asked Anu. “And why do you have a milk moustache?”

Caught like a deer in the glare of oncoming headlights, mom froze, unsure of whether to remain in a semi-crouched position with her arms stretched out or to straighten up.

“Amma, you naked!” squealed Kuki, from behind the boys. “Guys, see, my mom’s not wearing underwear,” she pointed out.

“Can we play Xbox, ma?” continued Anu. “Please, please, please?”

Mom nodded mutely. At that moment, if Anu had asked for a hippopotamus for Christmas, she would have assented to that too.

“Cool, let’s go guys!” said Anu, running out the bathroom, followed by a giggling gaggle of eight-year-olds and one three-year-old.

Mom waited until she heard the bedroom door slam behind them.

Only then did she exhale.