Friday, May 20, 2016

Mother's Day Musings


When FB was bursting at the seams with mom pics and quotations on 8th May, I too got tempted to post mom's pic clicked when she was sixteen, with her very long tresses and manicured hands. Though I always saw her with not so long hair and hands, well the way hands look after a long day's chores. I didn't wish mom nor my kids wished me. Wondered if I love them less than others love their moms and kids?

 When I went to see off my parents at the CNB, we bought a few books from the wheeler at the platform, I clicked some pics of the spic n span railway station, touched their feet habitually and drove back. Back home read someone's status that her mother who was visiting her has left and her life is 'deserted' now. There were more than 100 likes n comments from the people who related to it. This is how FB fuels my guilt. But I have my moments when I feel like hugging my mom or kids really tight.

This winter when she visited me I told her that I had to attend a wedding but didn't want to because the host  had  sort of annoyed me for some reason. It may or may not be intentional. Mother chose a lovely saari for me from my limited collection and almost pushed me off saying that a daughter's wedding is a huge task, some lil goof ups are normal. Looking back I realised that she had quietly taught me so many things without being preachy and by just remaining in the background.

My son (the one with long hair, grr grr kit kit) also amazes me sometimes. During his JEE preparation days and just before 12th boards, when every minute counts, he had to collect his admit card from school.The teacher concerned had refused to give the card because the computer teacher had not sent his home exam grades and had left the school. The next day again he went and somehow got his admit card. I was irritated, obviously.

They have their exams centre in some other school and as a convention some teachers also come to see the arrangements and say all the best to their students. Children usually touch their feet before entering the examination hall. I asked him when he came back. "Did you touch her feet?" I loved him so much for the answer he gave, "Yes, arre kya ferk parta hai, teacher hi to hain" (how does it make any difference, she is a teacher after all)

These little moments together make my Mother's Day, just we celebrate it differently.

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