My mom sat on the floor .I rested my head on her lap.The warm sunlight overhead was streaming in falling on us.My mother started telling me a story.The kind of stories that only mothers know.The comfortable place of my head on her lap,the soothing kind of way she was telling the story and the warm sunlight overhead combined to lull me into a sort of dreamy sleep. As I drifted into sleep I could half consciously hear her words slowly disappearing into oblivion.I slept,in that space and time,like I had no care in the world.
That was in my childhood when my whole family lived at one place in one home.Those were the best days of my life.
I now live some 1000 km away from home,away from mom.Sometimes I get dreams where I am back in home, back with mom.Awaking from such kind of dreams is the hardest.Though I go home to mom every 3 or 4 months I still find it difficult to adjust to a life without my family.
My mom is the epitome of patience.I have seen no other person with the kind of patience that she has.I have never seen her lose her temper at housemaids even after their worst behavior.And sometimes when we have some some minor arguments,no matter how angry she is, she still comes back before sleeping and asks if we had enough food.
During our school days she used to walk all the way from our home to school to give us our lunch.She was always the one to buy us expensive toys.I remember my visits to our local shopping center to buy stuff.We always came back with lots of things to eat.And sometimes when she went alone I used to wait in home,along with my siblings, for the goodies.She never failed in bringing them. Even these days whenever I visit home she is the first one to go out to the nearby market to bring goodies for me.She doesn't wait for my brother or father to do so.Like my dad says she is an ocean of love.
In one Korean drama that I saw it was said that if you love someone one of the best things that you can do for them is cook something for them with love.A mother does this everyday.She cooks delicious dishes with love and care and we ungrateful kids whine and complain.In Islam we have this principle that one shouldn't say even an 'uf' in front of one's parents.
As an aside here is an interesting incident that happened with my uncle.One time my uncle ( my mom's brother) was at home in Hyderabad.He works in Saudi Arabia and sends money home to my grandma.One day some guy made a snide remark at my uncle saying that his mother is wasting his money here in India while he works hard in Saudi. My uncle replied with the quote of the century.He said ''she is my mother.She can literally burn the notes if she wants to''
I have engraved these lines on the slate of my brain and I keep reminding myself about them from time to time.
No amount of words can ever be sufficient for the praise my mom rightly deserves.
Sometimes I wonder 'For such a good mom am I a good son?'
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