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Standing in my Mother’s Shoes

Like most Indian (paranoid) moms I have a beautiful lady for a mother and she loves her children, beyond anything I can explain. I was a fussy little brat when young—she still thinks I’ve not grown up an inch. I look at her toil everyday, every second, in her own way to make sure everything is smooth in our lives. I don’t see her complain about it; she is doing it selflessly. Sometimes I try to understand this attitude of endless giving. I can’t even comprehend it, secretly don’t want to. Mostly, because I cannot fathom being that selfless.

Selfless or even grateful for that matter. Whenever my demands are met, I wouldn’t express my gratitude as much. On the contrary, sometimes when I’m upset, I make a huge scene, blow it out of proportion and make sure the point is made. I wonder what gets into me. Without airbrushing any of my mistakes, I stand here being a total “dementor” (Refer: Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling). I can’t even imagine being in her place.

Most of us are very ambitious and goal driven. I feel every one wants to achieve something in life. Go somewhere, do something great, leave a mark and get noticed. What about mothers? (Long pause to think)

I love children and I wave at every kid I see, shamelessly ignoring their parents getting annoyed. I would love having my own kids some day. Oh! No! The idea of having a kid like myself, really shakes the ground in my imagination. What sort of a mother would I be? Would I thrash the living ghost out of the kid or spoil them with everything? What’s right? Who is going to tell me? The thought of putting myself in her shoes really got me blown away. Would I sacrifice my evening soap siesta to teach my children Hindi? Would I let my kids butt into every conversation I would have with my husband? I have no idea what in the world they are going to throw at me? A whole new ball game.

We always think moms should be this way, she should do this and not that. My mom doesn’t socialize much; I pester her to call her friends home. I put so much pressure on her. The over-smart side of me could write her a manual on “How to be my mom”. For a human to have tiny humans act smart is difficult for the ego to take. I know this because I have a tiny human for a brother who has shot up and doesn’t act tiny anymore. Now if the tiny human has come out of your own body and is acting smart I would want to show them their place. What stops my mom from showing me mine?

On connecting the dots, I think that’s love. Her love for me is in my cells and my thoughts, my feeling, my words and even my bones. She doesn’t want to stop me, or doesn’t ever put me down. She knows I’m tough on her but she is so open to it. She is where I get my willingness, motivation to learn and be high on life. She has always been there for me even in my nastiest rebuttals. Sure it’s normal to argue with moms for a daughter. I still care, I care for her more than anybody in this world and sometimes the thought of not having her around someday to lie on her lap, brings tears to my eyes.

Mothers, they are your living walking, talking pillar of support and strength. I hope I’m better than a rainbow kooshball for mine. I know I haven’t been the best kid anyone would want, but my mom is irreplaceable to me. As I’m writing this I’m realizing the importance of feeling grateful for the people in your life, from every single cell. No one can be anything alone, you have a whole back up team helping you stand up from falls, dressing up your wounds and bringing the roof on your head for rainy days. So grateful for my people, especially my Mata! I LOVE YOU <3

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Disclaimer: This article doesn’t imply that I’m planning to have kids now. I am still an overgrown kid trying to get perspective. I’m that kid who studies in the summer holidays even before the year starts.