maa, meri maa, pyari maa..mumma:)

Yes, so after a self-undertaken hiatus of about a month from Facebook, after having pondered a lot over what I want to offer the world, I have reached to the awesome conclusion that I need to bless the world with my blogs! I have nothing more to offer the world but my writing :)

 So, I mulled over the topics I wanted to write, I wrote some articles on topics that were life changing, revolutionary and boring to death. So I threw them off and started burning my limited grey cells. With all the advertising about the upcoming Mother’s day, I thought I should write about the most interesting and colorful person I know-my mom.

 Yes, some of you will stop reading now because if I find someone writing about their mom, I would too. Because who wants to read again and again about the boring mundane stuff that everyone’s mom does!! So I decided instead of only glorifying all the sacrifices our moms make for us, why don’t we also celebrate their craziness and quirkiness!? After all, moms are human beings too and we always revere them so much that the crazy aspect gets no notice. I am going to write about my mom and the craziness with which she raised me up! Women are really crazier than they ever get credit for especially momsJ

 

Read the conversation below to understand what kind of a bomb I have for a mom.

 

Mom: Baby, will you eat aloo ka paratha?

Me: (with excitement) yes mom!

Mom: Make four then. Two for you and two for me.

 

That’s how she is. Funny. Sarcastic. Brutally honest to your face. And the best person to be with when you feel low. She is the source of all the confidence and at times over confidence that I carry.

 

She had me when she was just 21 and so she claims all her life I have been attached to her like a baby kangaroo. We kind of grew up together.

 

This photograph was taken when I was three months old. My dad looks at me so lovingly while the girl with pigtails who is busy eating something in the background is my momJ  

 

We used to live in Assam when I was three or four years old and my dad worked in shift operations. Given the unrest in Assam, at that time, there would be days when my dad would be stuck in shifts and he wouldn’t be home.

 

At some point of time, I forgot who he was and asked my mom “Why does this man live with us”?

 

She told me “Baby this is Papa, if he won’t go to work what will we eat and how will we live?”

Incidentally, dad could not come home for a week. So I pointed to my mom “See he has not come and we are living comfortably”.

That was how self-sufficient she made me feelJ

 

We used to be always late for school and she let me be a kid and bunk school. I guess till she attained the maturity that her child needed education. That changed her and she made sure her child topped every class and because English language scared her, she made sure her child attained a level of proficiency in English language to such an extent that even today all my thoughts are first processed in English and then to Hindi.

 

She was always aware of everything happening in my life. She made sure I would never lie to her by always letting me know, “Even if you kill someone, come to me with the truth.” And that always stayed, and I always know even now that if I have to conceal something from her, it probably is not the right thing to do.

 

While growing up, I was bugged by the pimples on my sensitive skin which is nothing unusual in the teenage world. I would complain to her citing examples of people with clear porcelain skin and she knew it would affect my confidence in the long run. She would say this to me “Yeah, their skin is so uninteresting that even the pimple does not want to be there!” To think of it now, that is the silliest argument, but it helped me during that phase. She made me feel beautiful by always saying,” It’s your soul that it meant to be unscarred; the skin is just a cover”.

Till day, I am bugged by people pestering me to put on weight, and she has always been so firm in saying this “Don’t disturb your natural body cycle by paying attention to crap. These are the same people who will pester you to lose weight once you gain it”. And I always love her for making me feel like Kareena KapoorJ

I did my Master’s after working for six years and she was my secret inspiration. I knew if she could start at career after thirty and successfully thrive on it, I can do whatever I want in life. She has been teaching kids for free for many years till the number of kids became unmanageable for her. She is one of the most respected teachers where we live in India and it has more to do with her persona than her teaching style.

And to say the least, cooking never interested herJ She cooks awesome food but she is a moody chef! My brother actually has haunting memories of her experiments with cooking J She made really horrible dum aloo once when dad was away and only me and my little brother were there. We could not eat that and she shouted at us “You little scums, I cook so hard for you and you don’t even eat it”. I don’t know what happened after that but we made sure dad was always there when she experimented with cooking. But the one thing I learnt from her was - you don’t need to be a typical mom who cooks and cooks and cooks for her kids to be loved by your kids. She made sure I learnt cooking but never made that the goal of my life. She taught me that cooking does not define your gender. It is just a matter of interest. I still never have large bags full of snacks made my mom when I come back from India. She will rather pick beautiful clothes for me than stuff food in my luggage. That’s her!

She always has such a giving attitude towards everyone that at some times the self-proclaimed sane people at home (me, my dad and my brother) have to consciously be the villain and stop her from donating all our stuff. She never even thinks twice before giving away anything be it her favorite thing, if someone asks for it. May be that is the reason, our house is always flooded with people who love her so much that at times we feel like her adopted kids instead of real kids. But that’s her!

I have always been a daddy’s girl and I share more traits with my dad than her but now that I am married and now that I see myself jumping up and down on the bed with my victory dance after I beat my husband in some online quiz game, I know I have also inherited her crazy genesJ Love you mom to the end of the universe and back a zillion times!!!