I call her "Mummy" and when I am feeling sulky or kiddish I call her "Mama" or "Meeehhh". She's my mother, one of my greatest blessings.
I grew up feeling her like the air I breathe in. She was always around-when I woke up, when I ate, when I cried, when I went to school and came back, when I played....in fact I'd inform her of my every move, even when I had to go to the toilet I'd seek her permission and would keep on repeating it until she's take some seconds off her work and nod her head and said,"Okay!" It was important for me to be in her thoughts.
I can almost hear her voice ring loud and clear, echoing all around the house. She has a sharp voice which is unmistakably distinct, and she used it effectively-to call, to scold, to teach, to tell. She has a cheerful disposition, she is a conscientious worker, she is a stickler for cleanliness, she doesn't like black, she loves geraniums,she always cooks a little bit extra(just in case), she often breaks into songs, she has a really good memory, she forgives quickly, loves unreservedly.She can sew, embroider, weave, crochet, knit and do all sorts of things with her hands. She has a good collection of shawls and as a child my sister and I would always take delight in unfolding them and wrapping them around ourselves and dance gleefully, much to Mama's amusement and annoyance! I loved watching her get ready to go out for her work. She would often ask me for suggestions, though I knew she would ultimately go for her own choice! She would apply a layer of her lipstick on my sisters and I as well before moving out and for this we would wait for our turn with our heads raised and mouths open! When she would late in coming back, we would get anxious and would run out on the little hillock and look out for her. We could usually recognize her by her shawl. I can still feel the delight on finally seeing her come down the winding steps towards our home!
I love what she cooks; I have never been able to judge whether she's a good cook or not...partly because I have grown up eating what she offered on the table and partly because I know lots of people whose cooking I relish. Her cooking is beyond judgement -for me,it is love,purity, trust, warmth...all rolled in together! My friends and neighbors loved her cooking though-my lunch box was always sought after and the little treats Mummy would send over to the neighbors always got great reviews! An old neighbor even said that Mummy's fried rice is better than anything she ever tasted, it is like gold!
She has the most beautiful hands-gnarled and twisted by years of hard work. They are at once the most beautiful as well as the most ugly part of her body. Ugly because, in comparison to the smooth skin on her other body parts, her hands looks grotesquely unfamiliar; and they are beautiful because of reasons I find hard to express...they stand for love, for sacrifice...
My friends love her. I feel so proud to be her daughter when my old friend calls up to say she visited Mummy to share, to pour her heart out, even when I am not around...she love unselfishly and people know that. Once, another friend exclaimed, "I love your mom! " I asked why. She replied, ""Cause she's so motherly!" I smiled when she said that and I still do when I recall that moment. My friends love what she buys for me, they always say that Mummy has a good fashion sense! I don't totally agree but yea, she does have a good sense in clothes. Most of what I wear has been chosen by her and I wear them proudly.
Mummy is stronger than she appears...I have seen her cry a lot many times but she has always come back with that cheerfulness which is her hallmark. I grew up watching her pray on her bed each morning and night.
She would always remind us that God comes first and then parents, and also that we are always in her prayers. She taught us songs which we would proudly sing in Sunday School presentations. She taught us to pray. She bought us wonderful books we still treasure.She would take the day off from office to prepare us for exams. She has an amazing memory power...she can still count in Bengali, read Hindi, recall old Sunday School songs, etc. Still, she's eager to learn. She often calls us to ask about the meaning of a new word she has just heard on TV, and when I tell her something new I have read in the Bible, she'll ask for the reference and look it up in her old Bible written in our dialect. I have often heard her asking Papa the meaning of difficult Bible passages. She tells us, "Now you are all more educated than your father and I, you must teach us back! " Such is her humility! I know that she takes pride in our learning so I make a conscious effort to tell her about some interesting things I have come across. Whenever she calls me she always asks,"Any new news?" or "Do you have something to say?" I therefore read the news on the internet just to update her.I recall a funny incident in which my younger sister and brother were arguing; Mummy intervened and said,"If you want to argue, argue in English!!" We all burst out laughing.
She lives for us, she always have....she didn't cry when Grandma passed away because we were around...I know she wanted to be beside her while she was unwell but she chose to stay with us. She sacrificed her pleasures to keep us comfortable, to ensure that we don't miss out on anything. Our aunt once said that Mom was so "ferocious" and protective when we were little, but now that we are grown up, she is more relaxed! Her colleague, herself a mother said that she has never seen parents loving their children as much as Mummy and Papa do. My uncle speaks of her as the perfect homemaker. I smile at many such comments about Mummy from people we know.
I never really identified myself with Mummy. As a child I was more attached to Papa. When Mummy would spank me and my little sister, we would cry out for Papa. I would always follow Papa around and unlike my sisters who would tell Mummy all the events of the day when they came home from school, I was never the story teller. I preferred sitting alone in a corner or snuggling up to Papa to hear stories. But Mama says that I have always been good with words and that's the reason why she would send me on errands-during our younger days phones were rare so we kids had to run around with news!
They say that there comes a time in a girl's life when she thinks her mother is her worst enemy. I have been through that phase-during my teens. I was a rebellious teenager who caused much heartache to Mama. I blamed her for everything wrong in my life, I argued with her, and said things I never should have said. I will always be sorry for what I said and did then. But Mama forgave me and loved me more than ever! She cried when I was leaving home for college, she gave up her favorite things especially for me when I was packing then; she made it a point to call me everyday though her phone bills ran up sky high....she still does...and she always shares with me what's in her heart. Over the years since I left home we have only grown closer. I often used to wonder whether people close to you can feel your pain even though you are miles apart and you haven't told them of your grief . I know for sure now that they do because Mama always knew if something is wrong with us. One horrible night I cried myself to sleep; Mama called me up early in the morning to ask if I am alright because she couldn't sleep that night as well!! There has been many more instances when she felt the pain in my heart even when I couldn't express it. She is amazing, she touches my heart in places which are too deep for even me to reach!
I hope I love her as much as she deserves to be and much more too...she is someone who I want to be like in her devotion towards her husband and children. We would be lost without her...she has an indomitable strength I can only wonder at. With all her shortcomings,with all her mistakes she is still beautiful, perfectly lovable! She is a woman through and through...she is my mother, she is God's representative on earth to me. I love her more than I can say and more than I can even know! When God chose me to be one of her daughters He was being extra kind to me....
And when people say that I am very motherly, I hope within my heart that they mean I am like my Mama....
I grew up feeling her like the air I breathe in. She was always around-when I woke up, when I ate, when I cried, when I went to school and came back, when I played....in fact I'd inform her of my every move, even when I had to go to the toilet I'd seek her permission and would keep on repeating it until she's take some seconds off her work and nod her head and said,"Okay!" It was important for me to be in her thoughts.
I can almost hear her voice ring loud and clear, echoing all around the house. She has a sharp voice which is unmistakably distinct, and she used it effectively-to call, to scold, to teach, to tell. She has a cheerful disposition, she is a conscientious worker, she is a stickler for cleanliness, she doesn't like black, she loves geraniums,she always cooks a little bit extra(just in case), she often breaks into songs, she has a really good memory, she forgives quickly, loves unreservedly.She can sew, embroider, weave, crochet, knit and do all sorts of things with her hands. She has a good collection of shawls and as a child my sister and I would always take delight in unfolding them and wrapping them around ourselves and dance gleefully, much to Mama's amusement and annoyance! I loved watching her get ready to go out for her work. She would often ask me for suggestions, though I knew she would ultimately go for her own choice! She would apply a layer of her lipstick on my sisters and I as well before moving out and for this we would wait for our turn with our heads raised and mouths open! When she would late in coming back, we would get anxious and would run out on the little hillock and look out for her. We could usually recognize her by her shawl. I can still feel the delight on finally seeing her come down the winding steps towards our home!
I love what she cooks; I have never been able to judge whether she's a good cook or not...partly because I have grown up eating what she offered on the table and partly because I know lots of people whose cooking I relish. Her cooking is beyond judgement -for me,it is love,purity, trust, warmth...all rolled in together! My friends and neighbors loved her cooking though-my lunch box was always sought after and the little treats Mummy would send over to the neighbors always got great reviews! An old neighbor even said that Mummy's fried rice is better than anything she ever tasted, it is like gold!
She has the most beautiful hands-gnarled and twisted by years of hard work. They are at once the most beautiful as well as the most ugly part of her body. Ugly because, in comparison to the smooth skin on her other body parts, her hands looks grotesquely unfamiliar; and they are beautiful because of reasons I find hard to express...they stand for love, for sacrifice...
My friends love her. I feel so proud to be her daughter when my old friend calls up to say she visited Mummy to share, to pour her heart out, even when I am not around...she love unselfishly and people know that. Once, another friend exclaimed, "I love your mom! " I asked why. She replied, ""Cause she's so motherly!" I smiled when she said that and I still do when I recall that moment. My friends love what she buys for me, they always say that Mummy has a good fashion sense! I don't totally agree but yea, she does have a good sense in clothes. Most of what I wear has been chosen by her and I wear them proudly.
Mummy is stronger than she appears...I have seen her cry a lot many times but she has always come back with that cheerfulness which is her hallmark. I grew up watching her pray on her bed each morning and night.
She would always remind us that God comes first and then parents, and also that we are always in her prayers. She taught us songs which we would proudly sing in Sunday School presentations. She taught us to pray. She bought us wonderful books we still treasure.She would take the day off from office to prepare us for exams. She has an amazing memory power...she can still count in Bengali, read Hindi, recall old Sunday School songs, etc. Still, she's eager to learn. She often calls us to ask about the meaning of a new word she has just heard on TV, and when I tell her something new I have read in the Bible, she'll ask for the reference and look it up in her old Bible written in our dialect. I have often heard her asking Papa the meaning of difficult Bible passages. She tells us, "Now you are all more educated than your father and I, you must teach us back! " Such is her humility! I know that she takes pride in our learning so I make a conscious effort to tell her about some interesting things I have come across. Whenever she calls me she always asks,"Any new news?" or "Do you have something to say?" I therefore read the news on the internet just to update her.I recall a funny incident in which my younger sister and brother were arguing; Mummy intervened and said,"If you want to argue, argue in English!!" We all burst out laughing.
She lives for us, she always have....she didn't cry when Grandma passed away because we were around...I know she wanted to be beside her while she was unwell but she chose to stay with us. She sacrificed her pleasures to keep us comfortable, to ensure that we don't miss out on anything. Our aunt once said that Mom was so "ferocious" and protective when we were little, but now that we are grown up, she is more relaxed! Her colleague, herself a mother said that she has never seen parents loving their children as much as Mummy and Papa do. My uncle speaks of her as the perfect homemaker. I smile at many such comments about Mummy from people we know.
I never really identified myself with Mummy. As a child I was more attached to Papa. When Mummy would spank me and my little sister, we would cry out for Papa. I would always follow Papa around and unlike my sisters who would tell Mummy all the events of the day when they came home from school, I was never the story teller. I preferred sitting alone in a corner or snuggling up to Papa to hear stories. But Mama says that I have always been good with words and that's the reason why she would send me on errands-during our younger days phones were rare so we kids had to run around with news!
They say that there comes a time in a girl's life when she thinks her mother is her worst enemy. I have been through that phase-during my teens. I was a rebellious teenager who caused much heartache to Mama. I blamed her for everything wrong in my life, I argued with her, and said things I never should have said. I will always be sorry for what I said and did then. But Mama forgave me and loved me more than ever! She cried when I was leaving home for college, she gave up her favorite things especially for me when I was packing then; she made it a point to call me everyday though her phone bills ran up sky high....she still does...and she always shares with me what's in her heart. Over the years since I left home we have only grown closer. I often used to wonder whether people close to you can feel your pain even though you are miles apart and you haven't told them of your grief . I know for sure now that they do because Mama always knew if something is wrong with us. One horrible night I cried myself to sleep; Mama called me up early in the morning to ask if I am alright because she couldn't sleep that night as well!! There has been many more instances when she felt the pain in my heart even when I couldn't express it. She is amazing, she touches my heart in places which are too deep for even me to reach!
I hope I love her as much as she deserves to be and much more too...she is someone who I want to be like in her devotion towards her husband and children. We would be lost without her...she has an indomitable strength I can only wonder at. With all her shortcomings,with all her mistakes she is still beautiful, perfectly lovable! She is a woman through and through...she is my mother, she is God's representative on earth to me. I love her more than I can say and more than I can even know! When God chose me to be one of her daughters He was being extra kind to me....
And when people say that I am very motherly, I hope within my heart that they mean I am like my Mama....
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