Random Stranger: Hey Hi, where is your Son studying ?
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.
If there is something that i miss badly after becoming a mother, then it definitely would be sleep. I am not asking for much. Just 3 hours straight i want to sleep uninterrupted.
But that looks like a distant dream.
When i dreamt of having a baby, i dreamt of,
Soft Cuddles and Sweet Kisses;
Warm Hugs & Lazy Talks;
Warmer Nights & Cozy Dreams;
Perfect Pictures & Clean House;
I thought babies just have to be fed tummy full and they will keep quiet.
I assumed, babies dint have Mood Swings.
Yes that’s the word.Assumed. I assumed it will all be a Rosie walk from here.
As proud as i am of my toddler, I am double the scared of him.
His tantrums, his naughtiness, his hyperactivity.
His selective hearing capability,
The ease with which he does the things, that he has been warned not to.
The sleepless midnight’s he wants to roll around.
Slowly somewhere I can see a monster brewing inside of me.
I shout at him, much to my dismay. i dint want to do it, but i dont know how else to get his attention.
I keep repeating to him, that I will whack him. I keep threatening him, that i will go to office on weekends too, and that i will dump him in daycare.
Although, none of the above made much sense to him and he was unmoved.
He is right here, sleeping so peacefully in my lap, my leg is hurting, but i don’t want to let him go.
Its not he who has changed, but its me. The incompetent mother in me.
He is just about Normal.He is Growing, Growing to be a Terrible Toddler.
He wants to put his hands into the table fan. None of what i explained to him convinced him. He did put his hand, but thankfully there was no electricity.
I can see myself murmuring in prayer, “this is not the child I wanted”
But that’s just half of my heart saying that. Because i always wanted this child, i prayed for this child.
This delightful child, who makes my head and world spin.
This terrible toddler, who eats my energy so sweetly.
I cant deny him. I cant be angry with him for straight 2 minutes.
A life and future of a little human is going to depend on my words and action, is too big an ask from me. I was not prepared for this.
And then i remember, I am his mother, I asked for him. I prayed for him. I will take care of him.
I need to groom my mommy skills. I need to fine tune my parenting nerves.
I always prayed that God did not give me anything that I cannot handle. I wished he did not trust me so much.
But he has trusted me and handed over this beautiful, glowing, naughty, hyperactive boy.
If at all there are people who create first impressions on a child’s character and heart, then it is the parents.
He has grown so fast, already 15 months, and i dont want to scream and make these precious first few years of his life a terrible memory.
For now, I will embrace my hyper toddler, and let few tears of joy roll down as i kiss my handsome Ved and whisper to him, Amma will not shout at him from this moment.
A little boy’s Amma.