My Two Mothers!
I
believe that I am truly lucky! Why, you might ask! Because I have two mothers,
which is one more than most people have, and this is when I need to knock on
wood to keep the evil eye away! They hover over me like guardian angels, both
diametrically different in their vocations, but amazingly similar in their
principles and outlook towards life.
The
mother I was born to fits into the mould of the multi tasker, whirling around
like a dervish to fit in all that she does into the 24 hour day that seems to
fall short always. Having lost her husband at a very young age, she was left
alone to bring three daughters up, not the easiest of tasks even if you have an
army of relatives and friends to lend a helping hand. Single-handedly she stood
against the world, fighting demons, invisible and all too visible, as she not
only brought up her girls, but started an enlightened school where she put in
all those nuggets of wisdom that she had gathered and garnered from the schools
she had taught in. And yet, she never once let her girls know about the
hardships and the tribulations, preferring to reveal the beauty of life,
blowing optimism into their ears even as they grew into confident young women.
She was both father and mother, and made sure they lacked for nothing, which is
perhaps, why they, in turn, have turned into her strongest champions!
When
I was to be married, being the eldest, she had just been widowed and the
parting was painful, like the severing of a limb. As I took the customary three
circles around the fire with my bridegroom, her face mirrored mixed
emotions.... joy that her beloved daughter was getting married to a wonderful
man, uncertainty about how she herself would cope, and of course, sorrow that
her fledgling had grown up enough to leave. Tears gushed down her face as she
wished her husband had been around to witness the wedding of his eldest. And
when it was all over, and I was getting into the car to leave for my new home,
a feeling of panic came over me as I knew I was leaving my mother behind, and
that life would change in some way! The tears in my mother’s eyes only
strengthened this feeling!
But
when I walked into my brand new home, in a bright silk sari and matching
jewellery, where a whole host of relatives waited to welcome me in with the
traditional lamp, it was my mother in law [whom I always refer to as my mother
in love] who caught hold of my hand, and said in her matter of fact way, but
with much love within her heart, “Take off that silk sari and get into something
comfortable and sleep for a while!” It was amazing how warm those words made me
feel, as she realized how utterly exhausted I was and two hours later, I was
back to my normal self, rested in my new home with my brand new family!
And
so it has been over the years! There has never been a moment when my second Mum
has made me feel any different from her own daughter. She told me much later
how she had decided that when her son got married, she would gain a daughter,
not lose a son. She and I have long chats, discuss everything from politics
[which both of us don’t care much for!] to recipes [which we both enjoy
experimenting with!] She takes my side on most matters, a trait which her son
looks upon with indulgence even if he does protest once in a while. My daughter
smiles when she sees her grandma take her mother’s side, remarking wryly, “And
so the defence rests, as usual!”
The
other day, both my mothers were together for a short while and in the midst of
all the fun they had [which included watching inane serials and eating
chocolates surreptitiously], I heard my mother whisper, “Thank you so much for
being such a wonderful mother to my daughter! I think she is very lucky to have
you!”
Which
takes me back to where I began! I believe I am truly lucky! How else could I
put it, when on the one hand, I have a mother who listens to my grouses and
tries to solve them in her own inimitable way, who calls herself the luckiest
mum because I have written a book which she proudly presents to friends, family
and every stranger who comes her way? What else can I say about a Mom who
treasures every little scrap of poetry I have written over the years, and
forgotten about, and who puts it together and publishes it so that she can give
it to me on my birthday? A Mom who has a special place in her heart for me, her
eldest born, because we have shared dark days and bright ones together?
And
then again, what about my other Mum who makes sure I eat breakfast by churning
out the tastiest of chutneys, even if she has to do it before I wake up, or who
tells me to inform her of where I am if I am late [for otherwise she gets
frantic!], or who forces me to go to the gym because she knows it is good for
me? Who, when she is away, tells me that she misses hearing my voice, as much as
I miss having her loved presence around?
Both
my Mums hate seeing a cloud on my face, and both go out of their way to make
sure that the sun is always shining and all’s right with the world, as far as I
am concerned. Maybe, just maybe, this is where the beautiful saying came from,
“God could not be everywhere so he created mothers!”
Mother's Day Post
11/5/2014
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