My Wonderful Mother

I was the youngest in the house, but I was my mother’s dearest, most loved one. My early education took place under the guidance of my mother, and it was under her influence that I never had to take tuitions in my life.

I don’t know how she used to know about my health or what I wanted, from my facial expression and gestures. One day I was craving for halwa and within minutes I had halwa ready for my breakfast. Maybe because she knew me nine months earlier than anyone else.

One day in my childhood, I was standing in the kitchen holding my mother’s pallu (stole), when my hand fell in the hot oil, and due to the blisters, all the five fingers merged into one. Mother felt that this happened because of her negligence. She was crying more than me. She didn’t leave me alone for a moment until I got better. Every now and then I would see tears in her eyes, as if she was feeling my pain.

My mother had been through a lot, but she used to say, time moves on, “Not all days are the same.” These words proved to be true literally for the family.

Even in her last days when she used to hold my hand in her emaciated hands, the sparkle in her eyes and the expression of happiness on her face was amazing, which used to overwhelm me. It seemed as if she had found something priceless.

Whenever I was with her, not a day went by when I didn’t kiss her cheeks. She used to smile sometimes that even after growing up so much, there was no change in my nature. It was so natural, because her nature too remained unchanged till her last moments.

I wish this would never end, but we are all helpless, as destiny holds upper hand.

P.S.
Exactly three years ago, on this day my mother breathed her last. Here I have talked about my mother, but I believe that most mothers are equally wonderful.

–Kaushal Kishore