Hi Bob!” “Ma!” I say, looking around, trying to search for the voice, “Where are you ma?” “All around you Bob!” says the familiar voice of my mother. “But you died three years ago Ma!” I say a tear journeying down my cheek. I hear a sigh and then her voce again, “A mother never dies to her children my son! A mother’s love lives on for ever!”
As I hear her all too familiar voice, I remember today is Mother’s Day: A day when we remember, reflect and rejoice over these women who showered us with love, and who formed and shaped us.
Today let me bring some lines from a poem written by a reader many years ago:
Maa—an ice cool palm touching my flaming, feverish forehead.
Maa-a long distance, late night phone call— ‘how are you my child? We all are worried about you, Take care.’
Maa-never too tired to serve me food, be it late afternoon or well past mid night-
Maa- eternally complains that I don’t eat enough and that is why I look rundown.
Maa—who breaks down during my departure, who breaks down at my homecoming too.
Maa-the last, lone shadow standing on the river bank-seeing off the ferry boat that takes me across.
Maa-for whom my silly success is also a reason to celebrate, and even a big failure is not worth a cry. Maa-whose ‘desi’ medical remedies are surprisingly scientific.
Maa-a treasure trove of nice, amusing anecdotes and trivia
My brothers tease me for my black complexion. But Maa says that I am the fairest.
Whenever I hear Shashi Kapoor stunning a packed theatre with that memorable Deewar one liner ‘Mere Paas Maa Hai’, I almost stand up to say, ‘Hey you, mere paas bhi maa hai’.
Maa-whose agony is that her children don’t really obey her, but who fails to realize the adoration her very thought inspires in our mind.
Maa- an utterance that contains an eternity of love, solace, compassion and grace.
Maa- a single word of Beauty’
Beautiful words, aren’t they? I remember when my mother died in Baltimore in the USA, I couldn’t go for her funeral, but my wife and daughter were there, and my daughter read an article of mine just before she was cremated. It was on the umbilical cord that binds a mother to her children. A cord that even though when the child is born is cut off by the doctor, actually is never cut off..!
I hear my mother’s voice again, “Bob!” she says, and I am crying as tears flow down my cheek again, “I miss you ma!” I sob. “But I have not gone anywhere,” says the voice, “I am your ma, and will always be around you..!”
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