Mama Mia!

Ever since I began my long journey from Chennai to Kolkata, my mother had been faithfully carrying out one ritual. The day I board the train, she would wake up early in the morning, some days it is as early as half past three, and would prepare food packets for my journey. I do not like the food available at the pantry car in the train, but love to have home-cooked food, and I do not need to remind my mother about this, even before I could tell her, she is prepared to get things ready for me. I really wonder how many people would be prepared to sacrifice sleep and do this for me; I know a couple of others may also do this for me without my asking, but I feel sad to ask my mother to do this for me any longer, due to her health conditions.

I know my mother gets the best of what is available for me, and sometimes my niece had been telling me that more special dishes are prepared at home when I am there, and that she was envious of it. Most often we take for granted the goodness of people around us, who slog to make our lives a little more enjoyable; the hardship, pain and suffering that the parents go through is most often not recognized. I wonder if there is any other way of life or profession which is more unrecognized, unrewarded than that of being parents. In the case of my mother, after sending me with food that she had cooked for my journey, she would make it a point to know if the food was alright on the way… Such is the care that my mother shows towards me.

I have seen the worst happening to my mother, and there were several occasions when she single-handedly shielded the five of us siblings from the onslaught of my uncle, who under the influence of alcohol chased us out of our home. My father being in military service was not available close at hand to take good care of us, but my mother was to play many roles during our young formative years. Herself almost illiterate, she did not know how to express her love for the children, and there were several occasions during my younger days when I had felt that she did not love me sufficiently, and had even shared this with my elder brother once. It took me many years to understand that her love for me was no less.

It is true that I never got a letter written by my mother, because she could not write; she managed to learn to sign her name, and just a few years ago was learning the read the Bible, and therefore it would be unfair to expect a letter written by her. She would dictate a letter to either my brothers or sister and they would write the same. There was not a single time that my mother visited me in the boarding house I spent four years in, and my father visited only at the time of admission. When I would see all the other friends receiving parents and relatives from home on Sundays, I could not think this would happen in my case. I knew for sure I could not expect my mother to find the place, the route for which was quite complicated. And yet I have no regrets for not visiting me even once.

During the holidays this time, on several occasions I had noticed that when my father and I would be resting, she would be in the kitchen preparing some special snacks for me. Given that she has high blood pressure, and sugar, she needed sufficient rest, and yet she was happy to give her best for me. In fact she would do the same for all my other brothers and sister too. Some years ago, I had felt that she was partial towards two of my siblings, but now I know she loves and cares for all of us equally. There is great joy in my mother when offering her best for me and my other brothers and sister, and she would go all the way to do it, if she could. Her own comfort and priorities were only secondary to our well-being. I am thankful to God for such a wonderful mother.