“Maan Elah comes;
Maan Elah comes;
His father brings bananas;
His mother, shoes;
Still, Maan Elah cries.”
(“Maan Elah aaya, Maan Elah aaya, Abbu uska kayla laya, Ammi uski joota laya, Phir bhe Maan Elah ne shor machaya”)
This is the poem that ‘the most beautiful entity on earth’ used to sing during early years of my life. I became cheerful when she would sing this as a lullaby in a melodious tone. I would enjoy the poem and used to fall asleep immediately.
Whenever, I would cry during mid nights, I had always found her awakened. She made me eat something and I would sleep again.
In the morning, when I would awake after having a comfortable sleep, she was always there doing something for me: preparing my food, washing my clothes or ironing them. I would find her busy. I can’t recall whether or not she would take rest.
Tabish beautifully puts this in a poetical verse:
“My mother hadn’t slept for high time,
Once I told her I felt frightened’’.
(“Ek muddat se meri Maan soi nahi Tabish; Main ne ek baar kaha tha mujhe dar lagta h”)
When I joined school, her life became more hectic. Teaching, preparing for my lunch and making me ready for school added to her business. She never minded anything. She happily bore my angry attitudes. She always kept me clean and well-looking. Doing all this, she forgot her own self. She never thought of her own dresses and looks, and always thought of me.
I can count moments when I saw her in clean, presentable dresses as well as eating to her fill having plates full of food in front. Tea was her favorite since it kept her working consistently; it made her less tired.
Providing my family with all these services, she never demanded anything. Even she had to face some unwanted and unfair situations. Still, she remained calm and made herself stronger day by day.
As soon as I grew older, the nature of her service changed; it never disappeared. She still washes my clothes and irons them, prepares for my food and takes full care of me even than her own. Whenever I visit home, all she thinks of is me.
Such selfless, strong, resilient, emotional, beautiful and loving creature are what we call ‘mother’. All these qualities are not sufficient to characterize ‘mother’. The word itself depicts innocence; it feels good to say the word again and again.
Claims like ‘women are tend to be emotional’ hold less value for me as I have found my mother the strongest person in the world. No male has come to my vision as yet to be as strong as my mother. But yes, I have seen my mother weeping on a very little wound of me, remaining calm inwardly.
The attitude of my mother seems to be more inclined towards being a ‘traditionalist’ one. Still, I believe mothers everywhere love their children more than anything else.
Quoting my mother: “A child is the most precious thing a mother can have.”
This blog is dedicated for the love of my mother-the most beautiful entity on earth.