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A special conversation with your mom that you remember!
  • Mere Pass RajMaa Hai!

    “Tujhe sab hai pataaa…….meri maa”, as the poignant song played on the FM, it touched chords deep inside that I forgot existed. My weary eyes were moist with many a memory and slowly the floodgates opened as the tears traced their salty path along my red cheeks. It was Mother’s Day and the careful selection of heart wrenching numbers played an ode to God’s most magnificent creation, only glorified second best by Bollywood. It was having the desired effect on my emotional equilibrium; I picked up the phone and dialed the all too familiar number. ‘English thumke,dil ki rhythm pe, Maare jamm jamm ke, Desi Boyz’, the caller tune rang blissfully, unaware of what I felt or what I was to say.

    “Hello Maa, it’s me. How are you?”

    “All ok? How come you called?”

    “Nothing Maa, just thought we’d catch up. It’s been long…..” my voice trailed off

    “You broke? You need money?” she asked almost sternly.

    “No, no Maa, I’m fine”, my tone was that of a child who'd just been reprimanded. “Just that it’s Mother’s Day so thought we could do a lunch together. Just the two of us, spend some quality time.”

    “And waste what I already cooked? Do you know chicken is 110 Rs a kg and Rajma is 80 Rs a kg? You think money grows on trees? You couldn’t call earlier, I would not have cooked.” By suggesting wastage I had committed sacrilege and could not retrace my steps.

    “But they played that song now…..” I said aloud and then lived to regret it.

    “Huh? What song? Have you been drinking again?” She never stopped doubting me on that one and I have no clue why!

    “Noooooo Maa” I said, trying to change the topic, “Ok how about dinner then?”

    “The watchman just informed me that there won’t be any water supply for the next two days. So I need to stock up when he pumps in the water for today at about 7.30 pm. So dinner is definitely not happening. Can you believe the state of this city? Gone to the dogs I tell you”.

    “Accha, so how about a quick coffee then?” I said, trying very hard to accommodate myself in her social calendar.

    “Are you trying to kill me? You know my sugar levels have gone up. What has gotten into you?” She was about to get into her ACP Pradyuman ‘case solving skills’ mode when I intervened her thought process.

    “It’s Mother’s Day Maa!” Now I was as exasperated as she was. This was just not going the way the FM RJ had intended.

    “Another Bank holiday? When do people work here? I needed to withdraw some money.”

    “No Maa, I said correcting her (and feeling so darn good about it) it is not a bank holiday and FYI you can withdraw money from an ATM anytime.”

    “For my eyes? Nothing is wrong with my eyes” she said, stating matter of fact. “I don’t understand that plastic money business. How do you know you’ve spent something if you haven’t spent anything? That is the problem of this generation. You people want everything at the press of a button. Food, job, services, information, mother, life partner even children for Chrissake! If labour came with conditions applied in our times, the human race would not have lived to speculate on the world ending in 2012. Ok, I need to hang up now, my chicken is turning into coal and the rajma into porridge. Call me when I am not busy!"


    “Happy Mother’s Day Mom! Thank God and YOU for making me Emotional Atyachaar proof.”
  • I was getting late. The bus driver had scowled and told me to be on time. Maa, had been taking a longer time than usual.

    Me: Maa, deri hocche! (Maa, it's getting late!)

    Maa: Dara shona, dui minute! (Wait my dear, coming in two minutes)

    "I snarled. When will Maa understand the deliquescent nature of my work! I am not her darling little girl anymore. I have a boss to answer. She just does not understand!
    This is not the first time! She always keeps calling me from the back, making me sip coconut water or chai, eating marie biscuits or toasts.
    If I am hungry, I'll eat! Why does she have to make a scene all the time!"

    I begin to leave, just like every other day. But it isn't like any other ordinary day.

    I sighed as I came back to my senses. Maa had passed away two days back, peacefully in her sleep.I'd been out for work, while she'd probably expected me to be there, holding her hand. She'd always taken care of me, but I could not. Now she won't be running behind me to grab a bite before I leave or come scurrying down the stairs when I come back. As I lock the door, I miss the scent of the incense sticks she light early morning and her sweet humming. You were right Maa, I never grew up. I wish I never grew up, for I remembered being everything; everything else except your little daughter. Will she ever forgive me?
    She will, I think, for she had a heart of gold. A mother's heart.
  • It was a busy Monday morning, I was busy packing lunch and helping Amma wrap up kitchen work so that both of us could leave the house by 9 and not get late to work. Just when I was cleaning the place, she glanced at my bag – a very pretty cloth bag with floral designs on it.
    Amma: Why are you carrying that *vegetable shopping* bag to office?
    Me: Just like that, I wanted a change.
    She thought for a couple of seconds and then said, “If you leave your apartment behind, I’ll give you my new handbag.”
    Me: Apartment?
    Amma: yeah, all those unnecessary things you carry in your bag, they just add onto extra weight.
    I was part listening, part lost in my own world, when she uttered this; “I think you should do the same with your life” It sounded very cryptic and I dint have that kind of mental peace to decipher it. I brushed it away saying, you seem to reading through a lot of Paulo Coelho Status on Facebook.
    I was thinking about it on my way to work and suddenly it made perfect sense; I was carrying excess baggage not only in my bag, but the same applied to my head. There were too many things grabbing my attention at the same time leaving me baffled. I had to learn to let go and get my head sorted.
    That’s just once instance. The other day I was telling her that I’ve lost faith in the system, and I don’t really feel positive about my life. The talk veered towards boy-hunting and I told her I had actually lost hope of finding the one. That’s when she asked me if I had read Lochinvar by Sir Walter Scott. According to her interpretation – one fine day there will be a God-Awesome boy who will simply sweep me off my feet and take me away. Her undying optimism is something that I’d like to imbibe and I’m very amazed that she can never really think negative no matter how trying the situation is.
    If there’s another piece of advice I’ve received innumerable times over the years is that; the one above us has a plan for all of us. She firmly believes that no matter what happens, one fine day every single piece in the jigsaw puzzle of life would fall into place and it would be picture perfect.
    Truth to be told, I live by the same faith.
    To Amma, for being my Idol, Rockstar and Goddess! I love Amma and I really wish 25yrs down the line I have a couple of kids who would talk the same way about me. I’d run of out words if I had to write or tell you how much you mean to me.
  • I see no reason, why mothers day has to be celebrated on a particular day.

    Isn’t everyday a mother’s day? Do mothers stop being mothers on other days?

    Well I guess, its too late to discuss it now :)

    Every day is a Mothers day

    The celebrations and mentions of mothers all around, accidentally reminded me of my mother (yea almost accidentally, coz I was never close to her).

    As a teen, I was always close to my dad. Mum always remarked, we were the same breed – selfish and arrogant (and ungrateful too, but she never said that).

    And I used to take proud in being so, I was daddy’s girl, spoilt and happy !!

    She was the one, who wasn’t very well-educated and married off at a tender age. I know it wasn’t her fault, but that always made me look down upon her as a parent who wasn’t contributing to her child’s studies. Although she was the best at whatever she did.

    Her primary function being, cooking and taking care of her family with three kids. She was always over-powered and over-shadowed by her husband (my dad), and I never realised she was being neglected. She had never complained.

    She couldn’t help us to study, but took care that we finished our homework on time, submitted our projects, arranged our bags, learnt our lessons for the test, ate well and slept on time. Nothing had deterred her dedication as a loving mother who never expected anything in return. Anything she said in terms of discipline was counted as nagging.

    Fast forward to present, when I am a mother myself, I realise how wrong I had been.

    Although she had never sat down to teach me how to do a tricky calculation, she taught me the lessons of life. She taught me how could I be a good mother to my kids.

    The dedication I possess is only a fraction of hers and I still have a long way to go. The thing that troubles me is that I could never really thank her for whatever she had done for me, may be due to my ignorance then. Neither did she expect me to do so, nor was I mature enough that time to express it. May be there was a communication gap.

    She was sure the back bone of the family. If it wasn’t her perseverance, dad would not have been able to focus the way he did on building our careers. Just because he was more vocal and expressive, and she was reserved and submissive, he got more of the spotlight.

    As a mother myself now, I always take care my kids talk enough to me. I try to be their friend in deeds and needs both. And it pains sometimes to see how they consider the disciplinary issues as a usual nagging of mothers.

    I feel its kinda tit for tat for me I never ignore it though. At times I try to change myself, and at other times try to mould them into a more decent behaviour (which isn’t easy of course)

    When I look back, I realise, mum was always there with me. Not even once had she left my side or stopped loving me. Be it my first day to the school, my board examinations, my first periods, or the birth of my children. She was a support and a pillar of strength for me.

    Only if she could read this post, or I gather enough courage to go up to her, hug her and say – Sorry mum, I underestimated you………..
  • Here is what I want to say:

    She is the one!!

    It’s difficult to actually describe her in words
    As dedicated as a teacher and as independent as birds
    From morning to noon and noon to night
    she has taken care of all our fights!

    From the day I was born to the day I will live
    She has always followed the philosophy of ‘Give’
    Never has she desired anything other than joy
    even those, solely for her girl and her boy.

    Her wants and desires were last and the least..
    all her prayers centered on protecting us from the beast.
    All our sorrows always evaporated, and we did not where
    we even didn’t know that they were deposited in her share.

    We are her stars, we are her life
    she even considered mother above 'The Wife'.
    to see a smile on whose faces she worked day and night
    balancing those spectacles and her week eye sight

    When I studied in the night ,I wasn’t alone ever
    there was always that hand guiding me forever
    happy for my success and sad when I failed
    she never showed her tears but alone she wailed.

    The woman who requires a special mention of praise
    those silent eyes, peaceful mind and loving gaze
    This is to the woman I love, admire and respect
    whose dedication even the almighty cant suspect
    to the world she may be just another,
    but to me she is the one I call MY MOTHER!!!

    I have learned all this and much more from mother. The most important keeping your children as per your first priority but balance your professional growth with it. I hope that I am able to do the same for my children one day :)

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