Happy Mother's Day!

Mother. Mummy. Mom. Ma. Aaii. Amma.

The first word spoken by a baby. The easiest word to speak. Just close your mouth, and open it. And the word emerges straight from the soul.

There is a story I want to share before all else:

When God was creating mothers, He was into His sixth day of "overtime" when the angel appeared and said. "You're doing a lot of fiddling around on this one."
And God said, "Have you read the specs on this order?" She has to be completely washable, but not plastic. Have 180 moveable parts...all replaceable. Run on black coffee/tea and leftovers. Have a lap that disappears when she stands up. A kiss that can cure anything from a broken leg to a disappointed love affair. And six pairs of hands."

The angel shook her head slowly and said. "Six pairs of hands.... no way."

It's not the hands that are causing me problems," God remarked, "it's the three pairs of eyes that mothers have to have."

That's on the standard model?" asked the angel. God nodded.

One pair that sees through closed doors when she asks, 'What are you kids doing in there?' when she already knows. Another here in the back of her head that sees what she shouldn't but what she has to know, and of course the ones here in front that can look at a child when he goofs up and say. 'I understand and I love you' without so much as uttering a word."

“God," said the angel touching his sleeve gently, "Get some rest tomorrow...."

I can't," said God, "I'm so close to creating something so close to myself. Already I have one who heals herself when she is sick...can feed a family of six on one pound of hamburger...and can get a nine year old to stand under a shower."

The angel circled the model of a mother very slowly. "It's too soft," she sighed.

But tough!" said God excitedly. "You can imagine what this mother can do or endure."

Can it think?"

Not only can it think, but it can reason and compromise," said the Creator.

Finally, the angel bent over and ran her finger across the cheek.

There's a leak," she pronounced. "I told You that You were trying to put too much into this model."

It's not a leak," said the Lord, "It's a tear."

What's it for?"

It's for joy, sadness, disappointment, pain, loneliness, and pride."

You are a genius, " said the angel.

Somberly, God said, "I didn't put it there.”

There is a moral to the story. That the “standard model” is fully loaded with all specifications. Yes- There are the sub-standard models, I agree. They probably have their reasons.

Also- a woman does not have to bear a child to be a mother. A mother is borne every time we have a smile in our eyes and a lump in our throat when we watch an advertisement on TV with a baby in it. A mom appears inside a little girl when she cuddles her baby brother/sister. A mummy breathes inside any of us who pats an urchin child on its head, or covers a plastic doll with a piece of an old blanket in the freezing cold.

When I think about my mother, and myself..and so many of my friends who are mothers, each a little different, each with their own unique quirks and methods- I find there are a few things we all do/have done. It is our combined custom to kiss our children to sleep, and then do the following-

AFTER they were asleep:

1. Rummage in their drawers, shelves, schoolbags, cupboards- for as many articles as have wandered through the day and mysteriously either disappeared, or reappeared in other unfathomable places! (Aanchal- I remember how your uncorrected notebooks would vanish from your bag and Hey Presto! Appear behind the shoes in the shoe shelf!

Saahil- The numerous gifts from/to your assorted girlfriends, your test/exam

papers with 3/100 marks- the former I used to find in my rummaging efforts, and

file away in my mind. The latter are one of those inexplicable mysteries that

vanished forever into the depths of the black holes in the Milky Way, the

mysteries that the universe is so famous for!)

Shalu- the secret love-letters from your..ahh..admirers that you think I haven't

read)

BEFORE they fell asleep:

2. Rummage in their minds and put things straight for the next morning, repacking into their proper places, the troubles that had wandered into their hearts and souls.

In both of the above, there were new discoveries every day- some sweet, some not-so-sweet.

I remember doing this every so often. Had I remained awake when I was a child, I would have seen my mother doing the same (You, Vinnie Dev). All I remember is that whenever she held me close and spoke with me, heard the words I said and left unsaid, I slept peacefully. And when I awoke, all the naughtinesses and evil passions which would have shared the pillow with me, were all folded up small and placed at the bottom of my mind, and on the top, beautifully aired and scented, were spread pretty thoughts, many rainbows and colourful butterflies- all ready to fly into my new day.

I think I repeated that method with my children quite well:-)

They say, a child is born. Actually, a mother is born along with her child. Before I became a mom- I had never held a sleeping baby that much longer, just because I didn't want to put it down. I had never felt my heart shatter into a billion pieces when I saw the scraped knees and elbows of my children, or their broken hearts and dreams- and I couldn't put them back together again. I didn't know that something so small could leave the broken shards of pain inside of me, and hurt everytime they sprung out from my memory. I never knew I could love another being quite this much. I never knew I would so love being a Mom:-)

(This holds true much more for you both, my Terrible Twins- Saahil and Shalu)

Today, on Mother's Day – I want to say a heartfelt THANK YOU. To my mom. For being my mom.

To my children. For making me their mom.

And to every mother out there who loves her children with unconditional intensity, and trusts in them blindly, and never falters in her love for them.

Happy Mother's Day.

“Har pal khushi deti hai maa,

Apni zindagi se jeevan deti hai maa.

Upar wala kya hai, maa ke wajood ke aagey--

Upar waaley ko bhi to janam deti hai maa!”

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