Mothers

Mothers are such strange beings. All they ever want is happiness for their children when all their children want is to get away from her, not realizing what they are leaving behind. I am tainted too, thinking that I know best, for spending my teenage years, bereft from her and even being hurtful at times. But as soon as I was in my twenties, I realized that “Mothers actually do know best”.

Sadly, my soon wasn’t soon enough and it was time for me to lose her forever. And since then all I want is a second chance, chance to do it all over again, chance to be the daughter that I wanted her to have.

She was the best mother any girl could get. She wasn’t a very cuddling mother, the one who smothers their children in hugs and kisses, in fact, we literally, at times, had to beg for a kiss or a hug, but I have never ever wanted to even change a single hair on her head. She kept my feet on ground, always did what was best for me, and defied her feelings and societal norms when it came to me, she loved me a lot, in her own strange way and I realized that too late. When she left, there were many big gaping holes left in my life.

She played many roles, you know. She was my best friend, only best friend, she was my dad, my role model, my inspiration, my axis she was, and that world’s best mother too. I still remember she got up at nights in winters just to check if I had my blanket on properly. I never asked her to buy me things, she somehow, always knew what I needed.

She was a very strong woman too, whenever it was time for me to go back to hostel, she was the one who always smiled and chided me and other for being cry-babies, when in truth she cried buckets as soon as I left home.

 

The point of writing this is not telling people about my loss, but telling them what it is like to lose a mother. Imagine yourself in a world where no one loves you or appreciates you or even smiles at you, that is how the world looks like after she is gone. Even if you find a million people who love you more than anything, somehow it would never be enough. There will always be that void in your heart which will never fill.

Never disrespect your old lady, because trust me, when she is gone that will be the only thing that you will always remember. How you treated her that one time, how you shouted, the look in her eyes, the contours of her face. I know because I remember that one time too and doesn’t matter how much I repent it, it doesn’t go away.

Doesn’t matter if you are a male or a female, she certainly should be and is the number one woman of your lives.

She will always be there for you, always love you, no matter what you do. She will always give you her best.

Make time for her always, take her out, love her, respect her and if you are too far from her, just visit when you can and her once in every two or three days or daily if you can. All she wants from you is to hear your voice, to know that you are fine.

Her love is unconditional.

Love her while you still can.

HUMAN – A Chameleonish Creature

Most of us would not agree that we change colors- “nahi bhai, hum toh aise nahi hai..” but perhaps you’ll agree to- “yes, we change colors but only from our normal tone to Red when angry, Green when sick, Blue when sad and Yellow when very happy..” . But what I am talking about is way beyond it and deep inside we all know it too.

Every one of us likes to stay in power and have powerful friends- someone who would save our ass from trouble, but, when that friend is doomed, we run away, as if they have acquired leprosy overnight.

On one hand, we moan and complain about our slacking government and on the other hand, we are the ones who break the laws, bribe the officers and ditch paying taxes.

We spend thousands of rupees on one designer dress but will fight for a rupee with a poor cobbler, a vegetable seller or a rickshaw walla.

We ask for equality and we are the ones who differentiate on the basis of gender, caste, color or creed.

We are the ones, who say that we love, we care and we are friends and at the same time, we don’t stop ourselves from acting Brutus.

Yes, We ARE Mean, Greedy, Sly and Selfish. But we would rather prefer our personality to be painted in the hues of Red, Yellow, Green and Blue than all Black and Grays.

But, if we really want our portrait to be in Blue, Red, Green and Yellow with only a drop or two of black used for our hair, then, We are the one need to change, to bring those colors in our life and personality.

For the color RED, one should be love, learn to love and sacrifice unconditionally, without any second thoughts.

For the color BLUE, one should leave anger behind, have a calm personality, should stop fighting over trifle issues and say bye to Ego.

For the color YELLOW, one should have a bright and sunny nature and should spread the light of knowledge, kindness & love, where ever one goes.

For the color GREEN, one should be friendly and accept people as the are- selflessly.

Remember, being an animal, only invites a ring master to tame and cage us.

CHANGE- should always be for betterment. If one is going through a bad time, then, one shouldn’t play dirty and pull others in the mud with them too. One should learn to accept everything as god’s wish.

If One Is HUMAN, Then, One Should Act Like A Human Too.. Should Learn To Love And Live.. Fully ..!!

What it takes to be a mom..?!

Today, itself, I asked myself this question many times. That what it actually takes to be a “MOM”?!

Do you have to give birth to someone, in order to get this privilege? Do you have to have same last names? Should you have a considerable age difference from the person who refers to you as her/his own chosen angel, like a difference of 20 years or so? Do you specifically have to be of the female clan? Should you be supporting them financially? Or should you be married or divorced or a widow, in the very least, in order to be worthy of this title?

I am not, officially a MOM, if judged by the above “morally-socially-correct” standards. I have never given birth to anyone. Have never been, heaven forbid, married, divorced or a widow. But, I have a child, whom I claim to be my baby. I don’t support her financially (her “own” family does that). We are unlike in far too many ways, like heaven and hell, but we also have too much similarity, like a pair of gloves. She is just three years younger than I am and I love her like I would love any child of mine, whom I’ll bear in future.

What brought this question on my mind was the fact that in spite of this love I have for her, I always felt shy when it came to enlighten people, whenever they asked about her. But, I tell them anyway, as I am not ashamed of calling her my own blood and kin.

So, after running the question on my mind like re-runs of old family sitcoms, by the end of this day, that is, today and now, I know what it takes to be a Mother. You don’t have to have blood ties or even same last name. No financial similarity is needed. No similarities are needed. You don’t have to be an official guardian to act like a mom. Heck, you don’t even have to be a female to be able to sign for the position (don’t we have wonderful and single male-moms, all around the world, taking good care of their children).

 

All we need and all we would ever need is a heart and some feelings. We need to have love and care, in abundance, the will to do anything for those, whom we declare as our children. No one needs a phone worth many a thousand grands or a car which only a few people in this world can afford. We don’t need to leave them a chunk of what we have when we die to declare them as our own. But, make it worthwhile, when we are alive. All anyone, is ever going to need, is a hug when they are down, a kiss when they need some love, some love when they think they are all alone and a hand on the shoulder when they think that no cares of them. All we have to ever do is watch their backs, be there for them and love them unconditionally forever, to qualify for the given position.

All the while I have been writing this, I have been thinking about My Child and how proud I am to have her. I have a protective streak for her a mile wide. I would kill anyone, without any remorse, who’d even think of bringing her to any harm. I would do anything, to keep her smile intact.

We are no mother-daughter out of a fairy tale. We have had our fallouts too, but right now, I can’t even think of one. I love her now and I’ll love her forever.

You must be thinking how come I can be sure that it would be a forever. I do. Because, when I care for people I never ever leave them but when I love them, I simply stick like glue.

 

P.S. – I am no expert on relationships, but I do have a very good radar about what should be in and out and I am not always morally correct, only correct by the standards of what feels right to the heart. Nor am I, a good judge of people, but I have a good sense of personalities (comprehend it, if it makes any sense to you).

 

.. and from now on.. I’ll never ever shy away before or after stating her as my daughter..

BEAUTY AND THE BEAST

I just finished watching Beauty and the Beast. The Emma Watson version.

Everybody loves Emma Watson. We fell in love with her when she was Hermoine Granger but all of us adore Emma. I do. She is intelligent. She is witty. She is poised. She is a feminist. She is humble and kind. And she is funny, not the strange kind but the kind which makes people happy. She is full of sunshine.

Yes. I am smitten.

But I did not like the movie. The only reason I continued watching it after the first 5 minutes was Emma Watson and the joy of watching her act.

There was nothing new.

It is the exact copy of the Disney’s animated version. Yes, exact. The only difference being it was not animated.

I practically grew up reading fairy tales and stories about magic and true love and courage and the likes and I love the Beauty and the Beast’s story.

The beast being a man who is afraid to be his own self, restricted by the things he has learned, comfortable in what he is, not wanting to change. He is a magical version of Mr. Darcy.

The beauty, Belle, is a strong woman, who is kind and loving and yet quite courageous and would do anything for those she loves. She also has quite a temper and she speaks her mind. Voila, she is Ms. Elizabeth Bennett.

They both are, basically, all of us and I would have loved to see some twist in the movie, something that would have left me gasping and awing at the same time. I was a little disappointed but now my analogy has made it better.

C’est la vie.

 

25 MAY 2012

It was 25th of May, 2012. The heat was driving me crazy, so I hopped on an AC bus to travel back to Zirakpur from Chandigarh.

There was a little time left for the bus to begin its journey. I was listening to songs and observing people who were boarding the bus. My eyes were wandering, and that was when I spotted the couple sitting in the seat infront of me. It was a not a very handsome couple or very young. They probably were in their early forties, and from lower middle class.

The woman looked frail and it was evident from her face that she had little or no strength left in her. Probably she was undergoing the treatment in the hospital nearby, I guessed again. The man was passing her tiny worried glances, every now and then. There was such love and such care in those glances that I was floored.

It was first time in my life that I had noticed such love between two people whom I barely knew.

Suddenly the woman started crying softly, I was unable to hear her, because of the earphones playing songs in my ears, but I could see her shoulders sagging and taking a defeated posture.

The man then wound his arms around her and just held her close. He said nothing and he did nothing else too, he just held her close. That one gesture must have had so much love. The woman was still sobbing, but she no longer had the defeated look. She was still crying, but she was gaining her strength.

The man then wiped her tears, making her smile. Her smile made him smile.

He had his arms around her throughout the journey..

It was beautiful.

It just strengthened my belief on love.
PAISE HO PAVE NA HO, CHALDA..

PAR PYAAR BINA, KISE DA VI NI SARRDA..!!
p.s. I am so glad they did not notice me staring at them.

SOULMATES? LOVERS FOR LIFE?

I had a habit a few years earlier; after dinner, I would visit the park near my place of residence. I loved the quiet, the dark and the gentle breeze. I would sit on the swing, swaying lightly, listening to songs and just thinking every thought that could possibly cross my mind.

One such cloudy night, I visited with my roommate, she was burning herself out over studies and I coerced her into giving herself a break. I was listening to her rants and stories when I noticed an elderly couple entering the park with a young boy. That was the first time when someone else entered the park such late into the night.

The couple seemed gentle and the boy was bursting with excess energy.  I observed them quietly.

The boy joined us on the set of swings beside us and the couple started walking around the boundaries of the park.

They were probably taking their after dinner walk, I guessed.

They were probably in their 70s, years of experience was visible through the lines on their face.

I continued my conversation with my roommate, slowing swaying on the swings. After a couple of minutes, they were near the swings, near to where we were sitting. They smiled at the boy, whom I figured to be their grandson, and continued with their walk.

Then they had my entire attention. They were walking holding hands, close to each other, at a tender pace. Their conversations were in hushed tones, with a coy smile playing across the woman’s lips. You could see the love that they had for each other in the way that they walked, the way that they held hands and the way they were so engrossed in each other that they did not notice or did not care for a 25 year old staring blatantly at them.

They look like soulmates; they looked like they were lovers for life.

This is the kind of love I want, I want the kind of love that I can carry with me to my old age, the kind of love that does not care of what the world thinks of it. The kind of love that has no right or wrong in it, it only is.

The kind of love that is forever.

 

Kaleidoscope Into My Past

I found an old diary today! Full of rose tinted views about the world, happy life, unconditional love, dreams, endless hope and what not! It made me sad and what made me sad was the fact that it was mine. It wasn’t very old, you know, like the ones which are decades old and you stumble upon it by accident. It was old, say like six or seven years but hadn’t been opened even once in the last three years. Not that it was thrown in the back of a closet or was pushed down inside of a truck. Infact, it was right in front of my eyes all along, on my book shelf, with other books I have. Only I didn’t open it even once. And today I did and I felt like as if I have given up on me, my faiths, my beliefs, the path that I always chose, my dreams and yes, on love too.

I found it full of excerpts out of Shakespeare’s books and other love quotations, poems and motivational quotes. It even had phone numbers of some people I never wanted to lose, names of the characters in my would-be books, tons of jargons and other classy words and their meanings and storylines for my various books. It had poured a lot of time into it and lot of nights and few hours of day too, to make it what it was today.

Reading all that and remembering the times I sat by it to pen down my thoughts, seemed light years away. It felt like someone else, someone else who wrote those things, someone else with those kind of hopes and dreams, it felt like I had a little sister, whom I have lost over years.

I wish I could get back to that, I wish I could be that again, you know, the one who loved unconditionally, fully and without fear, the one who accepted people as they are, the one who believed in people and trusted and loved them come what may, the one who always laughed and laughed and laughed till tears rolled down from her eyes. Or maybe I just want the laughing part. Life is cruel, it changes people, takes away their innocence and turn them into something they won’t even recognize years later.

 

I wish to dream that dream.

I wish to hope that hope.

I wish I could love again.