The alarm rings. It’s 5:00 am; a start to a regular day in her life. She gets up from the bed with all the day’s chores in her mind. She starts with cleaning the house; all the bedrooms, the seating area and the kitchen. She comes to wake me up with a kiss wishing me a loved filled good morning, I get the smell of warm coffee along with freshly baked pancakes for breakfast. I haphazardly get ready for office, waving her goodbye in a hurry and pushing off to carry on with my life. She turns her attention to dad, gives him breakfast with equal love and care and waves him goodbye for his day at work. Then she gets ready for her day at work; a teacher she is. She goes to a school of toddlers to teach them the basics of life. She struggles with each one of them, to make them learn their first alphabets. She teaches each kid with equal attention determined to bring them at par to face life’s competition. She feeds them lunch with her own hands, caring for each of them like she does for her own child. They are fond of her, they trust her away from the cocoon of their own homes. She shapes a culture, she shapes an individual every single moment, every single day of her life. She comes back weary from work but without a frown on her face. My pet greets her at home with selfless love every day, she is his favourite among us all. Without stopping for a breath she starts cooking for the evening, not bothered to a cup of tea for herself. She makes sure she makes all things to mine and dad’s liking; even choosing the best pieces of meat for us. We come home supposedly ‘tired’ and order her to cook a snack for us, she is happy we are home and brings us another munching delicacy. She smiles and asks us about our day, we unload all problems and anxieties on her. She tells me everything is going to be alright, I don’t pay much heed to her, after all, what does she know about my ‘complex’ work life. I walk out to do my own thing in my room. Dad switches on the television with his glass of drink relaxing for the evening, she goes back to the kitchen, it’s time for the pet’s food. She calls us for dinner after some time, I come and start complaining about why she didn’t make my favourite fries; she jumps to work again preparing my fries before I could say anything else. I eat to my heart’s content and retire to my room for the night. She now does the dishes and cleans the kitchen before she calls it a ‘day’. It’s 12:oo in the midnight now and she struggles through a disturbed sleep only to wake up at 5:00 am in the morning again to continue as always.
This is one day in my mom’s life or you can say every day of her life since the day I was born.
I have always taken her for granted, I have ignored her, fought with her and even gave more importance to all silly things in life over her. She stills loves me more with each passing day probably much more than I can ever fathom. She has shaped a strong sense of independence in me, she has taught me to fight, make my way in this world. She never preached anything to me, nor told me how I should lead my life instead she lived hers and I learnt. I learnt what deep compassion is, I learnt what it means to give without expecting, I learnt what immense patience felt like, I learnt what selfless love feels like; above all, I learnt what strength is.
She never made me feel like I needed to earn her love, even though many a time I have left a void in her heart with my actions. She healed an individual, she raised a family. She made home a happy place to come to.
She is my mother, a symbol of serendipity in my world.