welcome to the new breed.

our mothers were fantastic. admit it, its a fact. they brought us up- and heaven- or hell knows that we were peppery handfuls!

but we are a new breed, mom.

here's why.

...

walking down the road, the same familiar theme, the same scheme of things, the same old me. i let the cab go early today, needed to pick up some groceries and stuff. how hilarious, the men must have thought, women will be housewives! nah, come off it. better hussif than stomach upset. oh well. facts will be fact, no matter how you bend or warp the,. there they are, staring sternly at me, decreeing that i am my mother all over again.

no, never. not me, uh huh, screams something inside which i tamp down on. now is not the time.

it never is.

potatoes, tomatoes, bread, toothpaste, onions, eggs, etc later. a big bag, plastic, non eco friendly weighing one side down, a slim black leather bag swinging cheerily from the other. a strange silhouette winks at me- or wold if silhouettes and shadows had eyes. i see a lumpy form, short skirted, high heeled, with longish flowing hair, great hair, that, i think. oddly weighted. the slim straps on her sandals slip and slide and threaten to break but she gets home in one piece without accident- not before stopping to scold the dhobi about his tardiness though.

it is me, of course.

and that's why i'm not my mother. sorry, ma.