The Hand That Rocked My Cradle, The Hand That Rules My World

     I have no idea which will be the last face I ever see and recognize, but I know for sure which was the first. It would be an understatement to say that I owe my life to her, when in fact I literally do. I wonder why it took me so long to write about her, whereas I have written before about my brother and father, albeit not being able to entirely cover what they truly mean to me. Probably that is why I haven't written about her yet, fearing that no words can possibly illustrate our relationship. But today, I am going to try. On her birthday, I'm going to tell her at what place she is in my life, and forever will be.

     My earliest memory of her, which I can lucidly recollect...sorry for the interruption; coincidentally, she just called me. There's so much I want to tell her, but often I don't proceed beyond humming and asking general questions. Anyway, my earliest memory of her is from when we were at NOIDA near Delhi. Dad was transferred there for a couple of years and my mother and I used to be the only ones in the huge house while he would be out touring. What made it worse was that the neighbourhood was one of the most dangerous neighbourhoods in the country back in 1992. We would spend our time telling each other stories, well, she did most of the storytelling. The first story she told me was 'The Thirsty Crow'.

     And ever since then, we've shared so many stories that I've lost count. She's the one who inspired me to not just be an academic, but a holistic champion. She encouraged me to pursue at least one sport, one form of art, one foreign language and a hobby I'm extremely passionate about, and kick ass at them all. It is this encouragement that has helped me stay sane all this years, and for that I'm immensely grateful to her. To this day she reminds me that I haven't played a song in many days, or haven't gone swimming that morning, or not written anything, or to join a Spanish class to study the language further. Contrary to what she might feel about it, I'm thankful to her for this, and I missed this 'nagging'a lot during the four years I was away from home studying engineering. 

     She is a teacher. Just as my dad achieved in his career what he really wanted to, so did she. Despite being an Economics Honours graduate she humbly terms it as 'graduation in economics'. As she always wanted to be a teacher and loves being around children, this job makes sure there's a perpetual smile on her face, all the hassles at work notwithstanding.It is her dedication towards her profession that earns her new fans every year, in students and their parents alike. In an age where students would typically hide behind the thickest foliage to avoid bumping into their teachers after school is over, her students make sure she knows that they are around, by yelling her name out loud, or running to her to wish her. What more can a real, sincere teacher want?

     She and I recently toured Europe together. As weird as you might find a 23 year old hanging out with his mother for 12 days, this one truly brought us the closest to each other. The memories of that trip still bring a smile on my face when I really need to smile. More than the sights of Europe it was her company that made the trip unforgettable.

      She gives me that one push when I need it the most, and hope even if there is none. I might never be able to understand her life, but I've surely grown to respect it. More so now, since I'm the same age as she was when she had me. The kind of sacrifices she has made for us have not gone unnoticed, nor are the hardships she goes through even today without uttering a single cry. I know that all parents make huge sacrifices for their children, and many children reciprocate in ways much greater than writing blogs about their parents, but the least I can do for her is never let her lose her faith in me. She is, to this day, my greatest well wisher, my best teacher, and my oldest friend. 

     All I wish for her is good health, because she is in dire need of it. And a promise that I will never leave her side, or let her give up on me. The lessons she gives me every day will stay with me till the day I die.

"No one gets more than what they deserve, and before the time that is opportune."

"A cranky man in a car must feel blessed by looking at one on a two wheeler. The man on the two wheeler must feel fortunate looking at the one on a bicycle. The man on the bicycle must realise his luck on seeing the pedestrian, and the pedestrian must feel fortuitous looking at the man with no legs."

"We do not die by falling in water, we die when we decide not to swim."

"Never be too hard on yourself, others won't give you that concession."

     ...And many more. As it is said, there's a story behind everything. How a picture got on a wall. How a scar got on your face. Sometimes the stories are simple, and sometimes they are hard and heartbreaking. But behind all your stories is always your mother's story, because hers is where yours began. The life I have got from my mother is truly one that inspires the stuff of legends. I was the only one who fell short of the greatness I could have achieved, but my mother gave her fullest. I understand that these few words don't even cover a miniscule part of what I feel about her, but this is a start. No man is poor who has a Godly mother, and if God even exists, I'm sure He's a She.