A Letter to My Mother…
It is not Mothers’ Day, it is not Women’s Day, and it is not even your birthday. It is not that I am shifting to another city for university and not even migrating to another country for a job. And no I am not getting married either and leaving you forever. Yet I felt the need to write this letter to you.
You are wondering why?
I won’t say that I need no occasion to write to my mother. Because that would be pretence. The truth is that I have not even expressed myself on occasions. But trust me that doesn’t make me love you any less. And I only write, because it just felt right!
I’d say, even you do not express often how much you love me. In fact, you do not say it at all! But every other thing that you do all day long just screams it to me. How in spite of your limitations you always seem to have time to keep my stuff ready. From the daily household chores to the life decisions that I take, nothing can happen without you.
Mamma, you love me more.
I cannot claim even in a hundred years that I love you as much as you love me. But I do love you immensely. This whole arrangement of words, no, it is not to express my love for you. It is to make up for all the times I made you feel otherwise.
Though they say there is no sorry or thank you in friendship; I would want to say both to my best friend.
I am sorry, Mamma.
I am sorry for all the times I could not live up to your expectations. I am sorry for all the times I have disappointed you. I am sorry for the little lies I told you and you eventually discovered (of course I cannot hide anything from you). I am sorry for screaming at you, getting angry, being a disobedient child at times. I am sorry for every harsh word, every mean thing. I am ashamed. I am guilty. But Mamma, I am not perfect. I cannot be the epitome of goodness, I cannot keep calm all the time, I cannot stop being human. And I know you understand that, I know that in the end you forgive me. So, forgive me once again today for all the wrong that I have done and might do again.
Thank you, Mamma.
Thank you for everything you did for me since I was born. From cleaning me to teaching me. Thank you for introducing me to words. Yes, I may claim to be smarter than you, but I cannot forget that you taught me my first syllable. Thank you for making me the person I am today. People like me, they befriend me, they think I am a right person. Why? Because you taught me how to be one. Thank you for appreciating me in public and criticising me in private. Thank you for being the constant well-wisher of my life. Thank you for loving me when I wasn’t even worthy of hate. Even after seeing me at my worst, you made me believe that I can still go back to my best.
I am grateful that you allowed me to take my own decisions and taught me how to take the right ones. Even though it meant letting me take certain wrong ones and repent. I feel lucky that you backed me up when I was making the toughest choices. I am glad that you protected me even from the unforeseen dangers (though at times you do get hysteric and overdo the precautions part). But I know, you only care for your baby. I know, this is sounding like a Hindi serial scene to you but I also know that there is a lump in your throat. My strong, practical, firm as a rock Mommy, I know you are so tender at heart! And I respect you the most for that.
Yes, I agree, there are some lessons I learnt from this big wide world. These lessons, maybe you didn’t want me to learn. Maybe my set of right and wrong is slightly different from yours. Maybe I am okay with certain things you are not. Maybe my few habits annoy you. Maybe even after this whole confession and expression you would still feel it cannot make up for my shortcomings. And maybe it really can’t!
Aah! So many ‘maybes’ but only one thing is for sure and that is, you will not give up on me no matter what!
So call it cliché, call it a Hindi serial adoption, call it anything you like. It doesn’t change the fact that I love you and you love me more……..
I hope that I make you proud…