However big her children may grow up, to a mother they will always be kids. Today, her children are way past the mid-twenties and she still advises her son on what not to eat and when not to work. She tells her daughter that Maggi is bad for dinner even if it’s once in six months. She gets very upset if either of her children is unwell and she can’t hop in from 1200 miles to look after them. She thinks leaving India is like leaving planet Earth and that she would never get to see her children if they decide to relocate.
When her daughter was a teenager and was dealing with usual adolescent issues, she was her closest buddy. She always encouraged her to talk openly and never even once lost trust. She was afraid of travelling alone but always appreciated and motivated to be independent in all aspects. Her daughter’s friends’ used to envy her for having a mother like what she was – a fun person to be with. She gave all sorts of shopping, styling and attitude tips to her daughter. She even shook a leg whenever she got a chance.
It is dark outside at 4 am in the morning and everyday she got up with the alarm going off. Straight off to the kitchen, she prepared breakfast for kids and packed their lunch boxes, prepared brunch for husband and got the lunch ready for her and kids. Then she used to push the kids out of the bed to get ready for school, shouted at her son for being slow, made both of them have a good breakfast, quickly draped a saree, picked her bag and used to get ready to go to school – to go teach English at the same school.
It was not an easy job managing two kids and working full-time. She had little help at home – she handled all the daily chores that every working mother faces and ensured that her children imbibe the right values. All with a smile, vivacious self and a big heart to forgive. Her daughter never had to enter the kitchen to learn how to cook. She knew that while children are growing up, their education and career should be their focus, not how much water should be added to cook rice. Son and daughter were the same in her eyes.
When her daughter was 1.5 years old, there was a fire in the house. All she heard were screams and all that she saw were flames. She knew that her responsibility did not end after giving birth. She saved her daughter’s life. Her own hands got burnt but she never cared. She brought her daughter in this world, once again!
That’s meri maa..
This post was IndiSpired (#LoveYouMa) by a fellow blogger who I follow and she writes beautifully. They say that one of the forms of flattery is when you write a post in the style of a fellow blogger. So here is my submission to the two prompts.