Happy mother’s day

And so the wishes, the lunches, the gifts, the cards, the mandatory call, go on. So goes o the criticism why just do it only one day a year. If we were to treat mom better everyday, we would give her more happiness. Talk to her regularly, listen to her and humour her. The list on both sides is endless.

I have two boys and they were brought up in India in eighties and nineties when we had not heard of Mother’s day or any other such day. They were happy giving me hug while going to school and shouting for food right from the door when they came back. They took for granted that mum would serve them hot food and then scold them for not putting their soiled uniforms in the washing machine. They also took it for granted that mum would sit down and help them in the homework and then make their life   miserable for the upcoming unit test. That she would make chocolate cake and cold coffee right after yelling how they bug her.

I, in turn knew they boasted their mom could make dosas at home and made meethi imli for them. I also knew they would get upset if I said I was not going to talk to them. I also knew they would buy a gajra for me at India gate and share their chocolate with me. We were all happy making each other miserable. That was our bond. A bond that was never expressed was never discussed, never demonstrated, but which was our breath, the core of our existence.

Then they grew up. They became adolescent and teen respectively and I thought our bond had become a little loose as they started remaining more in their rooms. As they started taking the phone to their rooms to talk in privacy. But how wrong I was. That bond remained there, holding the special place.

The younger one grew here and as he became more Canadian and started listening to rap, wearing loose pants, and saying Yo Bro, I thought I had lost him. But no, my baby was there all the time. He was the Indian boy who was just trying to fit in.

My boys never wished me happy mother’s day. They never made breakfast for me on this day. But when I was facing a major crisis in my job and had to go on stress leave, my son simply came in my room and said, ‘ma you don’t have to work. I am there’. That was my mother’s day. When my younger one, who is an actor, thanked me for having guided him. That was my mother’s day. My daughter in law invited me last year, her first Mother’s Day after marriage for a high tea and made scones and had clotted cream to go along, as she knew I like that.  But then she is a daughter and they know it instinctively.

And of course, when today my younger one called me to wish me just before the start of his play. When my elder son formally came and wished me and handed me a new Iphone 6S, ha ha ha

Happy Mother’s Day