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:
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:
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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