As #MothersDay draws round the corner, it brings back beautiful memories of the time not so long ago when my brother and I used to get all super excited about Mothers day and make plans about what we wanted to gift Mom just like her birthday. I do believe that #EveryDayIsMothersDay but its also fun to dedicate an extra special day just for her where we children get the opportunity to make the day memorable for the center of our universe.
My mom once told me" Once you become a mother, you are a mother forever and your child's well being and happiness will be your priority . It comes with its own set of challenges and responsibilities which keep growing as your child grows and never a day will come when you can rest in peace and say" I'm now done with my duties and responsibilities as a mother, my child is now married and will figure out his own way. I can now sit back and take time for myself. The day you can rest in peace and actually be relieved of all your responsibilities is the day you breathe your last." How true this is. If I look at my mom, from the time I can remember she has always been on her toes and the biggest reason is we- her kids. Right from giving birth to us, nurturing us, teaching us the right values, being our teacher and our playmate, she struggled through those initial years of bringing up 2 kids. She sat by our bed the whole night when we were sick(those rounds of measles, mumps, chicken pox) when one was cured the other one would get the dreaded sickness. As we grew up and got busy with building our career and amongst friends, she stood by our side faithfully and ever ready in case we need her, and we did feel the need for her time and again. The times we tripped and fell and needed someone to soothe our bruises, someone to hug us tightly , someone we could pour our heart out to, vent out our frustrations- she was always there.
Even after I got married, she was the one who came and helped me settle down in my new house. Right from setting up the kitchen to doing odd jobs of fixing the lights and bed, she did it all. When I think of my early culinary experiments and fondly look at my pink diary full of easy recipes like poha,dal,bhindi ki sabji, chicken masala- though I used the exact measure per my mom's instructions my food never turned up as lovely as hers. I did manage to prepare something palatable, but I could never succeed in getting the same taste as when Mom cooked that dish. Nothing like ma ke haath ka khana(food cooked by mom) as they say, sprinkled with love and seasoned with a mother's warmth.
And when Angel was born she was by my side again. For her Angel is her own child. When I see Angel hug her, chuckle at her sight, my chest swells with love and pride. I think I am one of the lucky few and so is Angel. She is truly blessed as she has not one but two mothers. The sole reason why I decided to join back office in 4 months( people are surprised that I could manage to join so soon) was my Mom and grandmom. I know I can blindly trust them to take care of my little one just like I would, probably even better than me.
Those sleepless nights, constant crying of the baby, the body aches due to sleeping with her on the lap whole night, I was not alone through any of these. I had my mom by my side and she was the one who carried Angel in her arms the whole night, never putting her down for a minute despite the swelling in her feet and unfailingly woke up at 5 the next morning to go to work. I don't think there could be a greater epitome of love and sacrifice than a mother.
#MothersDay also make me reminiscence the love of a grandmom who is just an extension of Mom. Again I count my blessings here as my Angel has her great grandmom by her side who is always showering her with love and kisses. She's 80 years "young" but not a day has gone by when she has not come home to hold her great grandchild in her arms. The day Angel is a bit dull or has not made her potty, the worry on great grandma's face is so evident. She cant sleep a wink and I get countless phone calls"Potty kiya kya?" As funny as it sounds, it shows the depth of love which only a mother can give.
I can't thank Almighty enough for blessing me with such wonderful women in my life who give me the strength to face life courageously, who are always by my side be it sunshine or a hailstorm, who could go to any extent to keep me safe and happy.
This bond is so precious that I know even death cannot do us apart, for the powerful memories will always be alive and fresh, that's something no one can take away.
Yes #EveryDayIsMothersDay. A day to say a big thank you and pray for the selfless women without whom life would indeed be meaningless. #MothersDay for me is all about the beautiful memories we have built over the years, those testing times where we could have easily fallen apart but we chose to tread the rocky path and still stick as one, the rainbow days, the cloudy and dark days, and yes I look forward to all the wonderful memories we will build in times to come.
A visit to the shopping mall and all kinds of people dressed in varied shades and type of clothes is what catches the eye. While the guys longingly ogle at pretty girls and women check out each other from top to down- right from how has she done her hair to her toe nail and the shade of nail paint, one cannot fail to notice some middle aged aunties all dressed up in a pair of jeans or a skirt, some of them look around awkwardly, adjust their dress and try to look comfortable but it’s apparent that they are not. How could they possibly be? For around them are so many eyes scanning them, some are whispering to others and guffawing. It is quite evident that people find it amusing when a fat lady wears jeans. She's your regular woman who has those tires around her waist and some generous dollops of flesh on her thighs. She is the one always trying to hide these so called flaws by wearing an ill fitting salwar for hasn't she heard time and again from everyone- “you are FAT, you
A short story. "We couldn't save him we are extremely sorry ma'am your son is no more". An eerie silence crept all over. I was so shocked that I stood rooted to the spot. No tears, no sobs, no loud cries just a blank stare. Staring into oblivion. It was just this morning that I kissed Rehan good morning, gave him a bear hug which is our morning ritual, whispered in his ears " Mumma loves you baby", lovingly packed his sandwiches and stuffed the chocolate bars and chips into his bag. He was all excited about his school picnic. They we're headed to a resort which had a lake and my boy loved water. What an irony.It's this water which made him pay the price of his life. Yes it took him away from me forever. When a child loses his parents, he is called an orphan. A wife who loses a husband is called a widow, a husband who loses his wife is referred to as s widower. But what do you call a parent who has lost his child. Is there a word? I guess not.
You usually pick up a book to read because you heard a good word about it from a reader friend, or you chanced upon a good review or simply browsing for a book, you read the back cover and were intrigued to know more. My reasons for picking up this book is something you surely can’t beat! A chance encounter with the author Bavna Rai in a networking event right at my workplace made me rush home and download it on my kindle for weekend reading. Now being a blogger and aspiring writer, nothing gives you more joy than meeting someone who shares the same passion. Unfortunately I have never met a single soul who has remotely anything to do with blogging or writing in my workplace though I have worked for some of the biggest names in the Investment Banking World. Imagine how euphoric I was to receive an invitation for a networking event with 2 senior women leaders and I see that one of them is passionate about writing and has authored a book. Listening to Bhavna’s candid thoughts