Ruchira recalls about her mother and how she was brought up. The wheel turned full circle. Now, she is a mother to her daughter. Here’s an interesting article on relationship and parenting, in the weekly column, exclusively in Different Truths.
Amidst the maze of human relationships, the one that exists between a mother and her offspring is perhaps the most outstanding one. Someone had aptly said, “God could not be everywhere. So he made mothers.” Indeed for the newborn baby, his mother is the veritable shadow of God, providing nourishment tender care and protection in every possible manner. A mother, by and large, is an embodiment of affection, understanding and unbounded compassion. She is the first individual you forge a bond with when you first open your eyes in this big, wide, world. Through infancy and childhood, she is the guiding force – instilling in you, lofty ideals, virtues and morals. As your guardian angel, she helps you steer clear of all evils and hurdles that you are likely to encounter on the road of life. It has therefore rightly been said, “The hand that rocks the cradle rules the world.” Nothing moves her more powerfully than your smiles and tears, your creativity and achievements, failure and success.
Looking back at my own childhood, memories come flooding back: of how my mother brought me back home from school every afternoon, ate only after I had eaten, gave up her siesta to put me to sleep. She rejoiced when I was good in academics, angry when I wasn’t. During my teenage and crucial years in High School, she rarely went to parties, gatherings, evenings-out or cinema. I can count the number of times she bought expensive clothes for herself, on my fingertips. Through my adolescence, she was an open book teaching me about birds and bees; warning me of pitfalls and entertaining the silliest questions which I ventured to ask her. In the absence of a sister, she doubled up as mother-sister-confidante all rolled into one. She was constantly with me when I achieved one milestone after another, changing from a gawky teenager to a youthful maiden.
I shared a unique relationship with my mother – she is in the heavens, now. You seldom find mothers and daughters so deadly frank with one another. She always kept the door open for my friends of both sexes. My pals admired her a good deal and found her culinary skills mind-blowing. Till date, some of them fondly recall her homemade Sandesh and Patishapta (coconut/khoya stuffed pancakes).
There was seamier side to our ties. Very often we would get embroiled in severe disagreements and altercations. Usually, she was the one to attempt reconciliation. There are also instances when my father, he too is in the heavens, was persistent about my marrying some odious (but highly accomplished) eligible bachelors, whom I disliked. My mother would promptly come to my rescue – affirming that she too didn’t think they were suitable for me. I had hair breadth’s escape!!
For me too, motherhood has been breathtakingly memorable. That glorious sunlit autumn morning when I first beheld my infant with a puckered expression on her face, dark eyes and a headful of unruly curls, a wave of tenderness swept all over me. When I put her to my breast, I sensed the invisible bond that unites all mother and their progeny in the dimensions of eternity.
As months passed by the tiny “Living Doll” as my father called her, learned to sit up straight, crawled all over the house with me in hot pursuit. I can clearly recall all her milestones – cutting her first tooth, tonsure, lisping the word, “Mamma” and walking with faltering steps. She has now grown into a charming and confident young lady. I consider her to be an inseparable part of my own existence. I am not sure if I have been an ideal mother to her. However, my instinct tells me, she understands and will forgive me for all my lapses.
Thank you, Maa, for all that you have done for me during my and your lifetime. You will remain my source of inspiration, and I promise to make sincere efforts to be a good mother to my child, just the way you’ve been to me. Adieu. Farewell!
©Ruchira Adhikari Ghosh
Photos from the Internet
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Born in Guwahati Assam, Ruchira grew up in Delhi and Punjab. A product of Sacred Heart Convent, Ludhiana, she holds a Master’s degree in English Literature from Punjab University, Chandigarh. Armed with a P.G diploma in journalism in Journalism, she has been a pen-pusher for nearly 25 years. Her chequered career encompasses print, web, as well as television. She has metamorphosed as a feature writer, her forte being women’s issues, food, travel and literature.