One of my dear friend recently went through a major surgery. The doctors had advised her rest of close to 3-4 months. She was disheartened as she was almost settled in her company performing pretty well. A loss of four months was too much to afford. But miracles do happen. She rang me up a month later and much to my surprise, she was calling me from her office! I asked her how it all happened and she said, “Suyash even I never thought I would be fit so soon, but it happened, and I would give 100% credit to my mummy, I myself don’t have a clue as to how did she do this, I love her sooo much!
I got all my answers. 'Mummy' is the word and we all love our moms, don’t we? I mean the doctor had prescribed her a rest of four months and her mother even denied the law of rest? They all are magicians aren’t they? With perfect timing, they are masters of handling any kind of situation.
How many times do we sleep and when it suddenly gets cold, she is the one to wrap us with warm quilts. As if she is awake all night, watching her child sleep. Just a couple of sneezes and she would come up with ‘n’ number of solutions.
I was the ‘first boy child’ of my family. I don’t exactly remember but my Mummy, my Masi’s remind me of days when I used to get up early in the morning before anybody else got up, my hair touching my shoulders and my mom running behind me to catch her semi nude son before he goes all naked! It was difficult for her to catch me, as I guess I used to be in huge rush being semi nude. She would finally pick me up, love me moreover dress me and then leave for household works. No matter I was right or wrong, she was always, always by ‘my’ side, against the whole world.
I am 25 now, but her expressions haven’t changed yet. Whenever I go back home, she loves me the same way, the only difference being that she doesn’t have to dress me anymore. It’s just that we get too conscious when our mothers try to be too caring or loving as we believe we are grownups. The only time when we become kids again is when we fall sick. We get ample of time to think of days when our mothers spent sleepless nights just because we are ill, all without any complain.
I would like to tell all of my friends that during my childhood days I was addicted to sleep with a hand on my mummy’s tummy. This ‘one-hand-on-mummy's-tummy’ theory acted like sleeping pills for me. My younger cousin brothers, Sakshu and Bittu can’t sleep unless and until they have a part of my Masi’s hair in their hands! I mean, why only moms? Dads have better tummies I guess (not that soft ones' I agree), but I haven’t heard a case where a child is addicted to his/her dad’s tummy (may be because they snore too much), or may be holding a part of the dad’s moustache (may be because it hurts).
“Did you eat your breakfast? What did you have in your lunch? Beta, is there a possibility of coming home for a few days? Should I send some laddoos this time, you like home made mango pickles na? It’s too cold out there, did you purchase some warm clothes? How is everything going? In case if you need anything don’t hesitate, you can just ask for it.” These are questions that tend to irritate us sometimes, just because often we are unable to understand the love and emotion that is attached with each and every question. We get irritated of answering the same questions, ignoring the fact that our moms wouldn’t be able to sleep if even one of them is left unanswered.
We consider ourselves to be mature enough to handle ourselves. There is a change in the attitude, but mothers never change. No matter how old we grow, they still see the kid whom she gave birth to, the kid whom she fed every day, the kid whom she clinched and slept. All I want to say is lets be kids once again for our moms, at least let us not deprive them of the way they want to love and care for us, and I guess this is the least we can do to them (but the best as well) as compared to the selfless love and care they have blessed us with.
These lines are not written by me but they summarize my entire article in just four lines-
Sakht raaston mein bhi asaan safar lagta hai, ye mujhey meri maan ki duaaon ka asar lagta hai
Kitni raaton sey meri maan nahi soyi, bas ik baar maine kaha tha ‘maan mujhey andhere sey dar lagta hai’...
