A pretty long tough day today, as every other day.
A pretty long tough day today, as every other day.
Random Stranger: Hey Hi, where is your Son studying ?
I ‘just’ don’t look like him. But I believe I am like him, in bits and pieces and shapes. For Eg the shape of my funny nose is like him.
‘Teach your Sons’ seems to be the next big tagline. Much hyped, much exaggerated, much-needed, much abused.
“Margarita Mamun dedicating her Olympic Gold to her Father who died just days after her Glory” was one of the best videos I saw today.
The emotions of Ms Mamun warmed my heart. It felt good. Her dad in heaven sure must have rejoiced.
I can never complain that I did not have enough time to dedicate a glory to my father.
I spent full 30 years with him, enough time to make him feel proud of me a hundred times. But I never did. He never complained. But I never did. But again he never expected.
I never studied well, to dedicate Scholarships to my Appa.
I never fared in Sports to dedicate Gold Medals to my Appa.
I never ever did anything that would bring him any glory.
For all that I did to him, he graced me with such love and faith , that will shame me to my grave. Yes, that’s the word. He gave me the greatest gift a Dad could ever give. He believed in me.
He loved me so much, that even after his passing away, I live only for his love.
His love is interwoven in my nerves, in the core of my heart. Such extraordinary love for a commoner like me. I was a commoner in my eyes, but for Appa I was his world.
If not for my Father. If not for that love and faith that did not expect any dedications or honours or the least a mention of his Child’s greatness, I would have been nothing today.
But I will Appa, I will dedicate.
Dedicate, few moments of Kindness that you always inspired me to.
Dedicate few hours of Prayers of Thankfulness that you always practised.
Dedicate some forgiveness that you would love to see me do.
Dedicate a lifetime of humbleness that defined you.
For you were a Father who accumulated a lot of wealth for me. Wealth called Love, simplicity and Education.
You took pride in a very simple disorganised little girl for her imperfections.
You picked up the broken pieces of your failed daughter and moulded her to be the woman she is today. You did not give a chance to look out for Inspiration. You were the Inspiration within me.
You looked through an Imperfect Soul and rejoiced in it instead of ridicule.
I was just a little Glorified Nothingness, that you adored.
Probably that’s all I needed to survive.
And that gave me a little more confidence to live and succeed.
Finally, I will dedicate my Motherhood to you. I will try and be the father like you.
And will leave footprints in Ved’s life, just as you did in mine, Footprints of love and grace.
We will make every small moment count in glory and dedicate our well spent life to you.
A little Boy’s Amma.
The Metamorphosis, the complex yet the most beautiful transformation from time unknown is not just fr the Beautiful Butterflies.
No matter how ugly, no matter the storm, by the end of it all the caterpillar sheds every negativity and transforms into one of Gods biggest miracle, the Butterly.
And that Butterfly in my soul, is my littlest guy in my world, my Ved.
He just outsmarted me. In my struggle, in my nights, in my loss, he outsmarted me every second of my life.
The days I thought it was all over,
The 1st night I struggled to slept without a Father,
The minutes I cried like a 5yr girl searching for his shoulder,
I never knew there was a Butterfly brewing inside of me.
Just when I the Caterprillar was about to give up; I gave birth to a Butterfly.
As I sat at my fathers coffin, as I was about to fail, a Butterful inside me was preparing to fly.
It was his Heartbeat. The first ever ‘Soul Stirring Musical’ I have heard. A reminder of a beautiful transformation I am about to witness.
When words failed me, when the world failed around me, music gently whispered. His heartbeat whispered hope for a future full of laughter.
Each night I would replay that Musical, and I loved to add a face to it.
A face I imagined, made of a thousand Lillies, with the eyes of my Father.
Sprinkled with his grace and dipped in his mercy, I visioned his baby face.
The face I would like to be the final memory of my life, the face I want to see and keep seeing until I call it quits.
Today, after all those 9 months of lessons and trials and transformations, here lies the most Beautiful Butterfly in my lap, with every second reminding me, if not for the pain, there would never be a miracle.
His eyes, a reminder of all the dreams of our future together.
His wings of joy, are the confidence for me to fly high.
His colors of beauty, paints my world so bright.
His smile that helped me heal inside out.
And I believe for each of us there is a transformation waiting. For some it happens at a funeral service, for others in the labor room, for few on the graduation day and others at the altar.
Quiet a few amoung us are like the Butterfly literally, they can’t see their own beauty and grace while everyone else is in awe of their beauty.
Just Like the butterflies, we don’t count months, we treasure only moments, every moment is a memory. Precious unperishable memory.
Has anyone in History ever witnessed a Butterfly crawling back to his cocoon?
Neither did we and never will we.
The journey just got a bit more brighter, prettier, colorful and wonderful just like the little baby Butterfly in my soul.
a little boy’s amma.
It’s Happy Birthday to us !!