You think you have the best mom and I think I have the best mom as well. Let’s not get into that debate. Instead, let me tell you something about my mom, and maybe you will be able to relate to it. And understand a bit about how mom-dom works.
She was a gorgeous woman of only 18 when she got married. She was doted upon by her loving parents and spoiled by her brothers. Despite being the only daughter, she never turned into a brat. On the contrary, she would go an extra mile to reciprocate affection.
Life changed drastically soon after she said ‘I do’. She had a husband and family to look after now. Taking care of everyone and attending to seemingly endless house chores left her no time for herself. You wouldn’t think it was humanly possible but she managed to squeeze in four children and many of life’s rough episodes in her stride.
I remember that when we were young, she would go to university some afternoons in the week for her Masters degree. We would drive our nanny insane. Often, our maternal grandma would come over to babysit, and her loving nature didn’t help matters much either. We would play with maa’s clothes, makeup, shoes – in fact, hers were the first pair of heels I ever walked in. Despite being a handful, she managed to keep a level head and seldom lost her cool. Or maybe not.
She is the kind of mother who knows what is best for her child, and won’t shy away from dragging us by the ear to the right path. This is probably why I had a turbulent teenage. I didn’t understand her intentions and believed the worst. I gave her sleepless nights, endless worries, a few heartaches and wrinkles for her love and concern.
To be honest, I might have given up if I had a child like myself. But not her, oh no no. She remained dedicated to the cause (i.e. me) and to date nags about everything – from lack of nutrition in my diet to leaving jacket home on a cold night.
She worries – endlessly. But in recent times, I feel like she’s finally giving me a chance to grow up. And I am terrified. I want to run back to the cocoon her love provided. Now, she suggests instead of giving ultimatums, and to my surprise, I hate it. I liked it when she ran the show, for she truly knows the best. I seldom agreed with her and mostly did exactly the opposite of what she had asked, but it stills connected us. The turbulation meant we were on the same journey.
Now, we are thousands of miles apart. And like most long distance relationships, we hide bad news as to not worry the other. But what I wouldn’t give to turn back the clock and spend a lot more time with her than I did in my wild years. I wouldn’t want to fight less or avoid banging doors – that’s us. But just be there, with her.
Before I get embarrassingly emotional any further, let me share some fun facts about her and my relationship with her:
- I call her Mother India – no, I am not Indian nor is she. Remember Kasauti Zindagi Ki?
- She had an uncanny resemblance to a famous local actress (Shabnam) in her younger years.
- She has always advocated skincare instead of makeup; she was equal parts Olay and Estee Lauder.
- Need a home remedy? She’s your man! She can fix almost anything with items in the pantry.
- She used touchscreen phone in 1990s. When world has besotted with Nokia 3310, she was fumbling with a high-tech gadget that my dad got her from one of his trip to China.
- She cleared her CSS in first attempt and was offered a government job within one week. She turned it down to take care of her family.
- I was mostly punished in my younger years for throwing food behind the couch. Also, I was a slow eater and earned a permanent spot next to her on the dining table so she could keep an eye on me.
- She champions marriage, and truly believes in ‘until death do us apart’.
- She finds solace in spirituality. Her faith inspires me almost everyday.
- She has no sense of humour, Zilch, Nada, Jokes, what that?
- She is a cook par excellence. One day, I will go to Pakistan for a year, make her cook all her specialities and print her recipes in a book. World needs to know her culinary secrets.
- She loves my foot massages. I am really good at it – or so she says. No one else works, including my sisters (ha ha).
Mom, I love you. You have been there through thick and thin, and have loved me despite my many flaws. Unconditional, selfless love. And while I can never do justice to it, I will always thank the one above for blessing me the best mom in the world.
But no, I am not going to change much or make life any easier for you. I still refuse to have children anytime soon, nor will I stop junking (I just had spinach pizza, fyi) or start my day with ginger-honey tea. Somethings will never change. You have to nag and worry about me to make me feel loved. That’s just how it is.