Couple of days back I was in conversation with a friend of mine. The conversation was rather casual but in the meantime she told me about her ailing mother. Her mother was sick but the sad part is she cannot be with her now due to her work. Its almost paradoxical, I have also met people who take their aging and ailing parents as a burden and try a find ways to stay aloof from them but on the other hand there was this friend who seemed to be doing everything in her armory to make sure that her mother gets the best treatment and care.
Yes as children we are all responsible for taking care of our parents but responsibility can sometimes be harshly used and be taken as obligatory action. But what I noticed while the friend talked about her mother was that passionate and unconditional love enlightening my thoughts to self proclaimed Nirvana. She was telling me that she has taken the whole responsibility of taking care of her mother, though she had her brothers to do the needful. Daughter is often mother’s great friend, close pal and her most caring one that is what I learned from the conversation. The authenticity of her feelings were unquestionable. But in the meantime I began to wonder whether I possessed same sort of feeling for my mother.
I leave home early in the morning, the time when moon is still bright and sun is just beginning to sneak out of the far away hills, a wonderful time though to be out walking. But the guilt was just beginning to sink in, like as if the Titanic had in its maiden voyage, my so called care for my mother which I boasted was beginning to fall in the cold waters of pacific as the conversation proceeded taking more about how much she cared for her mother. I wondered how many times have I called my mother from office to ask what did she have for breakfast or lunch or even afternoon tea. How many times have I had discussion with my mother on how she was managing the house, whether the money I was providing her is enough. She always bring home a lot of food stuffs that I like specially the cheese balls but I cannot recall myself asking her what she likes. In fact it may be unfortunate that she has locked up all her expectation may be what she likes does not matter me much. May be in pursuit of my happiness I might have compromised a lot on her part of the happiness. The evident and new found selfishness within may be just the holy water trying to re-lighten her lost son. The conversion though might not have sounded significant to my friend but to me I was in some sagely acquaintance taking holy dip in the holy Ganga ( A holy river for the Hindus).
The painting is in way reminder of time when all of us were weak, vulnerable and in need of an angel to pamper us, to feed us and help take our first steps. But in midst of all the battle of our time we might have forgotten that moment presented in the picture. It may be almost be controversial to say that I believe that daughter understands their mother much more than I do as a son. Hence that gets replicated into the love and care that she gives her mother. I guess the shear love affection of the mother towards her baby as presented in the painting is enough to understand the value of a mother. But in addition to being a mother she also plays a good wife, lovely daughter in law, friendly sister in law and basically in every relationship associated with her she has her love care extended. Which leaves no doubt of her being god sent.
May be guys once you read through this just call your mom to say her hello may be go back home to give hug and say, “I love you so much”.
My sincere gratitude to the friend who inspired me.