Each morning these days of mine in hostel starts with a lie, a small but a significant one. Small, because for others it may appear just few words, but for me those are the words that define my life till now. Every morning before I leave for college, a ring on the phone is there without fail….. And I know that I would be hearing the voice that can take away every pain from my heart, soothe any injury, remove those lines of tension from my forehead and leave just a smile on my face, the same smile that used to be there when she used to wet my forehead with a kiss everyday I went to school. She is no other than maa. The first question would be did I have my breakfast, and from this side of the line I would be ready, by daily practice ,to lie to her, “Yes maa, of course”. This may be just a small lie, but in these two years of college life this single lie has made it very clear to me that no one in this world would be able to take care of me like her, hold me like she does, calm me down like her,she is the only irreplaceable part of my life.
How far I go, How high I soar, a string always holds me and pulls me towards her. Every morning alarm in that clingy, lonely hostel room reminds me of her, waking me up like anything, pulling my bed-sheet off me, switching off the fan, scolding me and warning me about the school-bus timings…… and what not. Nowdays me settling down with mere bread and butter, reminds me of those days when maa used to prepare a thousand different dishes every morning and still I used to eat them halfheartedly with a twisted face. In the haste of sending me to school she used to forget her morning tea at times, but never missed to pack my lunchbox with my favourite dishes. She knew how to handle a bleeding knee and a crying child, with a bit of scoldings and lots of pampering and care.Every parent teacher meeting maa used to be more tensed than me, as if her result would show up on my report card. I topped in class and her happiness knew no bounds. Her intentions were not wrong when she used to back me up for my wrong deeds in front of others and prove that her child is the best, because she knew that the quota of scoldings would be fulfilled once she reached home. I can never forget that time when she used to wait for me outside my school gate and waited for the clock to strike one.How heavy her shopping bag may become, but she never missed my favourite chocolates back home. She likes pineapple flavour more, but still makes chocolate cakes, just for me. Our fight over the TV remote always ended up with me winning every time. Her wait at the balcony when I used to be late from coaching says all. When college entrances were the biggest nightmares I had, she just used to sit by my side and her touch used to make me free of all tensions. Shopping with maa was my favourite timepass….those mother-daughter outings cannot be matched with anything on earth.
Now in hostel, she is not there with me all the time, to bear my tantrums, to pamper me, to laugh with me, to cry with me! Sometimes I laugh out loud on some joke, but then fall quiet on not seeing her around the room, to laugh along with me. When I crave for the rajma-chawal, but have to settle with two minute noodles, it reminds me of maa, who used to cook me delicious food even at midnight. When I am sad, I long for a tight hug, but now only my pillow gets wet, not her shoulders. Nothing in this world can match her, nothing can replace her in my life!
Today on mother’s day, when everyone is buying flowers,cards and expensive chocolates for their mothers, I am busy thinking whether all these things are enough to pay her back for whatever she did throughout her life? The answer is quite obvious, “NO”. What matters is just make her smile every second, every minute. For her big things don’t matter, her happiness lies in those small things you do for her. Make her a cup of coffee when she is tired, talk to her for hours like a friend, support her when no one does, the same way she did for you, how busy your schedule be, find just ten minutes of your day to talk to her, insist on eating her favourite dish, so that she cooks it, rather than your favourite makes it to the dinner table, share every small bit of your life with her. Why just wait for a day,”Mothers’ day” to thank her for all the sacrifices she has done for you, for all her sleepless nights for you, for all her gazes down the street, waiting for you, for all those tiring days, working hard for you? Everyday is hers….so rejoice every day as mothers’ day.
Happy mothers’ day maa……