माझी आई (My Mom)

My mom's death anniversary as per the Hindu calendar is on 2^nd April this year. Just a few weeks ago, I wrote the following piece, little before 16^th March, her anniversary by the Gregorian calendar. Thought I would share this :  


 

"I woke up sobbing. I had not known when I dozed off but in my dream I was in a foetal position and yearning to get somewhere or something, like a devotee seeking his God, like a baby seeking his mother....that’s it! I was indeed seeking my mother’s lap and sobbing as I wanted to be comforted.

It was a bit odd that I should dream of her all of a sudden. Not because I don’t think of her, she is always in my thoughts and heart.  But because I pride myself on being economical in the emotional department, or atleast I pretend to be. It’s been many years since I lost my mother to cancer. In about 2 weeks from now, it would be 20 years since she left ... was that why I dreamt of her? ..would be typical of her to remind me ...

I suddenly realise that all this time I was thinking, the tears had not stopped. I must check where the wife and son are. Grown-up men are not supposed to cry, although things are changing. You can see people of all ages crying on primetime TV, carefully wiping the corners of their eyes, so that the make-up is not ruined. Public display of emotion is encouraged nowadays. But a 43 year old crying in private? Husbands are supposed to be protective, not shedding tears. Dads shouldn’t sob....but what of the child in his mother’s lap? He has every right to cry. Even if he is a 43 year old child.

I don’t intend to write a big article or eulogise my mother here. A lot has already been written about mothers as a universal symbol of love, sacrifice etc, and by better men and writers than me. But I do feel that our relation which had matured into a friendship and a deep understanding of each other was unnecessarily cut short.  I know she would have preferred my staying in India, with her, after I graduated. She had just undergone all the operations and therapies to get rid of the cancer. But she knew of the efforts I had taken appearing for all the tests and my dreams of studying in US. I still remember my joy on seeing my GRE grades. My mom was with me and as I opened the envelope and looked at the marks, I did a full cartwheel on my parents’ bed. It’s been one of the few spontaneous displays of emotion from me. I am very sure that that was the moment when she swept her needs aside and made sure that I pursue my dreams. Although nobody knew the end would be so fast.

I remember when I was small; my mom would sometimes resort to silence as a punishment when all other forms failed. She would simply go about her activities fully ignoring me, my apologies and my pleas. And somehow I could never bear that. Even 5 minutes of her silence would make me do whatever she wanted me to. And to think I have endured 20 years of her silence ! maybe because I know she is not doing it to punish me, but nevertheless it is a punishment all right.

My dream has created a feeling of restlessness and elusiveness. Like when you try to grasp something in your hands and suddenly realise that it is has slipped through your fingers. I was searching for my mother. How I wish that when I am physically and mentally exhausted, I could curl up beside my mother with my head cradled on her lap, feeling her hands brushing against my face and hair....... I would gladly trade my seat in heaven for it."

Always remember –

There is no velvet so soft as a mother's lap
no rose as lovely as her smile, no path so flowery as that
imprinted with her footsteps.

well, these three lines are not mine, but by  Archibald Thompson