They say it’s difficult to understand women and even harder to understand mothers.
I guess I was in fifth grade when, according to my mum, I had started falling a victim to bad habits. And by bad habits she meant sleeping for long hours, not completing the homework on time, watching TV for hours and what not. I failed to understand her ’cause the kids in the neighbourhood were doing even more of these things and I probably was better off. It may have been the first time when I argued with her. I mean, we debate and argue over things a lot even today, but the first time was different. Flashback, I remember, even long after, she refrained from telling me anything. She was uber upset, I could make out.
One day I was sitting with my aunt when suddenly she turned to me and told me that my mum was seriously ill, and that doctors have told that it could take her forever to heal. She added that that the illness was a consequence of me not being obedient anymore. I was silent for a second. I got up and paced to my mum. I saw her laying in the bed in a blanket. I rushed to her, hugged her and burst into tears. My mom instantly knew what it was and even she held me closer and began crying. In a heavy voice, I swore I would always be obedient. My mother reassured me that illness wasn’t chronic but it didn’t matter then.
Next, I was selected from the school to go to Amritsar for a painting competition and I was excited because it was the first official school trip I was about to go on. The only glitch, I was suffering from jaundice. Technically, my treatment was almost over but it didn’t matter to my mum. She swore tooth and nail that she wouldn’t let me go. After my Principal repeatedly reassured her that she would take good care of my diet, my mother somehow reluctantly agreed.
Our bus was about to leave and all the parents around, inclusive of my mom, were warning us, like saying their wedding vows. “Don’t eat anything a stranger gives you.” “Stay with the group.” And what not. When our bus began to leave we turned around and began to wave goodbye. All the parents but mine were waving back. My mum was in tears with my father consoling her.
Let’s not bash each other for the display of love on social media.
Happy Mother’s Day!
the pumpkin blog 